


All's fair in love and war

by WhatTheWhat14



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheWhat14/pseuds/WhatTheWhat14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>US Air Force Combat Rescue Officer Clarke Griffin is used to seeing trauma during her deployments in Afghanistan. But a mission to save US Army Special Forces Major Lexa Heda and her unit turns Clarke's world upside-down. </p><p>Modern-day military AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I tried to conduct as much research as I could about CROs / PJs (Parajumpers) / the military in general, but if anyone sees mistakes or wrong information, please let me know! I'm not in the military, but I'm fascinated by it and I'm trying my hand at an AU for once. Also, I realize that women can't be CROs in real life and a female SF Major is highly unlikely, but that's getting thrown out the window for the sake of this story. 
> 
> Comments/reviews are appreciated and welcomed!

Clarke wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm, looking over the helicopter to make sure it was properly stocked with supplies. The Afghan summer was relentless: temperatures regularly soaring above 110 degrees, and an increased number in Taliban attacks, which meant a busier deployment for the blonde Combat Rescue Officer. She lived for this, flying around in the MH-53 Pave Low Helicopter and saving lives in one of the most dangerous parts of the Middle East: Kandahar City. She smiled to herself, despite the 105 degree heat and the sweat dripping down her back. 

The alarm from the TOC sounded, pulling her out of her thoughts and she started a dead sprint to the building that housed intel and communications. Her fellow PJs ran with her while others prepared the helicopter and airpad for a potential departure. 

“What’s the story?” she said authoritatively as she entered the command center, capturing the attention from Monty, her Intel Officer. 

“IED strike on a US group. Details are still coming in,” he said, focusing on the computer screen that was scrawling with lines of text. The air was filled with enough tension to cut with a knife as the crew waited for details. A piece of paper came off the printer and as Monty took a first glance, he grew pale. “Potentially two to three CAT Alphas. Multiple Amputations,” he said. Clarke swallowed and nodded. Their Detachment Commander grabbed the intercom phone as Clarke ran towards the door. 

“Scramble, scramble, scramble!” bellowed over the intercom, announcing the group would be leaving on a mission. The other PJs ran to their respective helicopters, one lead and one trail, to put on their gear. The blonde jumped in and clasped the buckles of her own gear, ending with her helmet and a thumbs up to Bellamy, the pilot of her lead helicopter. Within two minutes of the call to scramble, both helicopters were taking off from Kandahar Airfield. 

“Tango 1-5, more info coming to you. Victims are SF. How copy?” Clarke’s stomach dropped. They were picking up members of a Special Forces group, some of the most elite troops working for the ISAF. 

“Copy,” she responded, looking around at the other PJs. “Any more MIST info?” she radioed back, hoping they would have more medical info from the TOC about injuries. 

“Tango 1-5, that’s a negative.” She nodded. The blonde was used to going into situations with unknown injuries, and this was no different. 

“Tango 7, do we know if the LZ is secured?” Bellamy radioed, asking if their landing zone was clear of any other IEDs. There was a tense few moments before the TOC radioed back to them. 

“Tango 1-5, no info at this time.” Clarke swallowed again. The last thing they needed was to land on an IED, potentially killing everyone onboard their helicopter. 

“ETA 10 minutes,” Bellamy radioed and Clarke gave him a thumbs up in response. She motioned for the other PJs to start prepping IV lines and bags, knowing what they were about to see would need absolute preparation and precision. She had one rookie PJ who was on his first tour of duty. Clarke had to make sure she did her best to prepare the young soldier for what they were about to encounter. 

“Tango 1-5!” the radio bellowed, startling everyone from prepping the IV bags, “another IED strike has been reported from the same location! I repeat, second IED strike,” they said, obviously flustered. Clarke’s heart rate immediately increased and the scenario ran through her head. She needed to remain calm. 

“Tango 7, we are not standing down!” she radioed back immediately and without hesitation, refusing to not try and save their fellow Americans. 

“Clarke, we do not have an LZ!” Bellamy radioed. There was chaos on the radio and in the helicopter, everyone waiting for whatever was coming next. 

“Tango 1-5, reported four CAT Alphas, three CAT Bravos,” the TOC radioed back. Four critical patients and three patients who needed immediate treatment as well. It would max out their helicopters, no question about it. Clarke looked up to see her 2 other PJs, looking to her for answers. She was wondering who was able to radio this information back to the TOC from the point of injury. Usually, SFs operated in small groups, no more than 8-10 troops. Given what little info they had, that meant this particular unit could have been completely wiped out.

“Bellamy, you’ll drop me down with litters and we’ll hoist them back up,” she said with authority. 

“Clarke, that’s crazy! We’ll be sitting ducks out there!” he yelled back in protest. 

“We are not leaving our brothers out there to die, Bellamy! That others may live, remember?” she asked, reciting the PJ’s creed before continuing, “If anyone else objects, better let me know now,” she spat through the radio, looking at her fellow troops. The other two PJs looked at each other briefly before looking back at Clarke, nodding together in agreement with her plan. 

“I’ve got your six, Clarke!” Octavia radioed from her position on the door gun. Clarke smiled to herself and remembered why she loved having Octavia on her helicopter. The girl was fearless, and despite her small frame, was one of the best gunners around. 

“Tango 7, Tango 1-5 will pick up two of the Alphas, a Bravo and whoever’s radioing this information. CRO Griffin will belay down with litters to hoist back up to the bird and Tango 10 will pick up the other two Alphas and the other Bravos. How copy?” There was some silence through the radio, and Clarke feared the Detachment Commander would order her to stand down. After what seemed like minutes, the radio crackled to life. 

“Tango 7 copies.” They all let out a collective breath, realizing they had been holding it since Clarke radioed their revised mission plan. 

“Two minutes out,” Bellamy radioed. Clarke adjusted the green watch on her left the wrist, the same watch which had belonged to her father. It had become a habit, to adjust the watch on their way to a mission. She would silently talk to her father and ask him to help her through this, to keep her safe and help her focus on the medicine. Today felt different, and she fidgeted with it more than normal. 

Before she knew it, they were 30 seconds out and the PJs were focused on the open door, scanning the area for enemies when they saw the point of injury with bodies strewn about, blood everywhere in sight. Clarke readied the litters and took a deep breath as Bellamy told her he was ready. She attached herself to the cable system and lowered herself down carefully. 

The scene was chaos. Limbs were in every direction with 2 soldiers missing both of their legs below the knee. Clarke quickly scanned the area and looked for the medic or anyone who was uninjured to give her information. She found one person who was quickly trying to tourniquet the soldiers. 

“Hey! Hey over here!” She yelled, and was shocked to see a brunette female turn around, eyes wide with concern. “Combat Rescue Officer Griffin. Are you the medic?” she yelled and the woman just shook her head.

“The medic is right there!” she said, pointing to Clarke’s left at one of the troops missing his legs. “He needs to go first!” the woman yelled again. Clarke quickly grabbed the litter and loaded him into it with the help of her other PJ and they quickly hoisted him into the waiting helicopter. Moments later the litter appeared at the bottom again and they ran back to the other troop with a double amputation and quickly loaded and readied him to be hoisted. 

As she waited for the litter once more, she ran over to the woman who was still trying to treat the remaining troops. 

“Hey! The trail helo is going to pick up the other Alphas and the rest of the Bravos. You and two Bravos are with us, got it?” She said and the woman nodded with certainty. She grabbed the person she was currently working on and they headed back to the helicopter to be hoisted up. 

Clarke radioed to the trail helicopter the rest of the mission plan and attached the harness to the female troop to be hoisted up. The blonde couldn't believe how calm the woman was, and tried to find any sort of indication of her rank on her uniform, but the Special Forces uniform was torn, tattered and bloodied after the horrific ordeal.  
Once they were all inside the helicopter, Clarke went to work on one of the double-amputees while one of her other PJs began working on the injured SF medic. The remaining PJ started with the Bravos, and out of the corner of Clarke’s eye, she could see the other woman watching her closely. The blonde finished her initial blood sweep, checking for other injuries besides the obvious leg amputations. 

“Give me 2 units of blood!” Clarke yelled to the PJ closest to their wall of supplies, and quickly tried to start an IV line on the soldier. After three tries and no success due to the blood and fluid loss, she grabbed the drill to perform a painful procedure on the troop. An IO, which would require drilling a needle directly into the bone in order to give the soldier life-saving blood. She noted the soldier's blood pressure, which was dangerously low, and started the procedure. One the needle was placed, she attached the unit of blood and waiting anxiously for the blood to start flowing. Once it did, she gave the PJ next to her a thumbs up as he finished the IV line on the other critical patient. 

After she secured more tourniquets, she glanced behind her to see the PJ working on the Bravos, wrapping their wounds and sedating them with a drug called Ketamine. He gave her a thumbs up, and she glanced to the woman, noticing she looked considerably more pale than she was a few minutes ago. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked, and the woman stared at her blankly. Clarke immediately tapped the PJ assigned to the Bravos and he looked over. He shook his head, indicating he hadn’t gotten to her yet. Clarke hopped over to her, noting the first soldier’s blood pressure, which was improving. She started her blood sweep of the woman, and was horrified when she found a pool of blood near the woman’s abdomen. She was on the verge of bleeding out from a shrapnel wound. 

“I need bandages and more blood!” She yelled, grabbing the attention of both PJs on board. She quickly tore the rest of the woman’s tattered uniform off and saw the piece of metal lodged in the woman’s abdomen. 

“You’re going to be okay!” She yelled at the woman and saw the slightest nod, knowing the wounded woman would be losing consciousness soon. Clarke noted the green eyes before they closed and how beautiful they were. 

She shook the thought from her head and started IVs for fluid and blood as Bellamy radioed they were a minute out from the NATO Hospital. Once she was sure the fluids were flowing freely through the IV and the wound was bandaged, she cradled the woman in her arms to relieve the strain on her neck. Clarke glanced up and noticed the two Bravos with bewildered looks on their faces, noting they both had tears streaming down their cheeks. 

“Tell them she’s going to be okay,” she radioed to the PJ closest to them. He nodded and leant over, relaying the message. The two injured men kept leaning in, trying to tell the PJ something and he looked at Clarke before radioing back. 

“That’s SF Major Heda,” he said and Clarke’s stomach dropped. A Major in the US Army alone was a big deal, but a Special Forces Major was on a different playing field. She simply nodded and looked down at the woman, who looked like she was getting some of her color back. 

The helicopter finally touched down and seconds later the doors were open, nurses and military medics running towards the open helicopter door. Three ambulances were waiting for them on the Tarmac, and Clarke was the last to exit the helicopter, adrenaline running through her and she simply carried the woman to the last ambulance. She motioned for the other two PJs to ride separately in the other ambulances, and gave her report to the waiting medics. 

The woman started to regain consciousness just as they were arriving to the hospital entrance, and she looked confused. Clarke grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance, feeling some sort of connection with the wounded stranger.

“Major Heda, you’re in an ambulance and we’re just getting to the hospital. You’re doing great,” she said but the woman looked worried. 

“My men...where are my soldiers?” she asked and tried to get up. Clarke gently placed her hand on the woman’s chest to keep her from moving. 

“They’re in good hands, Major,” she said with a smile, trying her best to be positive when she knew those men were in bad shape. The woman seemed to relax a little at that as the ambulance doors opened again and they were ushered in to the hospital. Clarke started telling the doctors all she knew about the patients: the extent of their injuries, their blood pressures, units of blood given en route, drugs given, etc. The doctors thanked them, and she stepped back, watching as the teams of medical professionals did their best to keep the soldiers alive. 

The trail helicopter radioed that they were arriving, and Clarke headed back to the ambulance in order to be taken back to the Tarmac. She was anxious to know if the other patients were still alive. 

By the time she got back to her own helicopter, the others had been rushed to the hospital just as she had minutes ago. She looked inside her “office”, blood everywhere and packaging strewn about. No one, including the pilots, said anything as they stood and waited for the other PJs to get back so they could return to Kandahar Airfield. Clarke closed her eyes tight, shielded by her sunglasses, and remembered how green - how beautiful - the Major’s eyes had been. 

Clarke knew she was good at separating herself from her patients; it was necessary in her line of work due to the number of casualties and the injuries she saw day in and day out for months at a time. This deployment had been brutal so far, with children falling victim to IEDs, stray bullets, etc. Fellow soldiers losing limbs after one step in the wrong direction. The blonde had to keep her emotional distance in order to perform her absolute best. 

But she couldn't help the connection she felt to the woman. 

She heard Bellamy fire up the helicopter, hearing the rev of the engines and rotor disks and looked up to see the trail helicopter’s PJs getting out of the ambulance. None of them spoke to each other, and Clarke knew they must feel what she was currently feeling: dread. Sure, they had done everything in their power to save the lives of the SF soldiers, but it was bad; one of the worst missions Clarke had been on during her time as a CRO. 

The ride back to the airfield was nearly silent, with the only radio communication coming in the form of ETAs. The blonde patted the shoulders of each of her PJs, which told them she was proud and they had done what they could. There would be a de-briefing when they got back, but as their officer, she needed them to know she had their backs. They still had 8 more hours left in this shift, and another month left in the deployment. Clarke's unit would need to remain mentally strong if they were going to make it back to the states in one piece.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! As always, please let me know if I've made any mistakes in terms of military or medical information and please feel free to leave comments!

Clarke could feel the excitement inside the bus as they approached the familiar grounds of the United States base. Her fellow soldiers had loved ones waiting for them, new babies to meet, and time to make up for with friends and family. 

The blonde however, had never felt less excited about coming home. Maybe it was because she already had orders for another deployment back in Afghanistan in a few months, or maybe it was because she simply would get off the bus, take a cab to the airport and head back to Washington D.C. No smiling family to greet her, no loved ones waiting with open arms to squeeze the life out of her. 

Abby Griffin, esteemed general surgeon at the prestigious Johns Hopkins Hospital outside of Baltimore, would not be waiting with the rest of the families back at base. She would be on call, just as she had many times before when her only daughter returned from war. Clarke couldn't think of a more fitting way for her mother to show her disapproval of Clarke’s choice to join the military. 

The blonde was honestly too tired to care at this point. This deployment had been the worst, mentally and physically. It had been one of the hottest summers on record, and there had been an increase in civilian casualties suffered. Clarke guessed she had treated more Afghan nationals than US military members, and that bothered her. She refused to take a stance on the war, but she would never condone innocent lives being caught in the crossfire; taking bullets and getting blown up at the hands of IEDs. Her fellow military brothers and sisters had taken an oath and knew the inherent risks of their jobs, but the Afghan civilians were trying to go about their daily lives and were being killed while doing so. 

Clarke tried to shake the memories out of her head as she opened her eyes and saw the bus start to approach the welcoming area. Thousands of people lined the street, signs in hand and almost everyone dressed in some sort of red, white and blue fashion. The captain smoothed out her uniform and got up, ready to shake the hands of everyone on her bus to thank them for their service and work over the last few months. She was good at putting on a happy face for her fellow soldiers, and it was something she had become accustomed to during tough deployments. 

Once everyone was off the bus, she thanked the driver and headed to the cab area, smiling at various strangers and soldiers as she walked. She flagged a driver down and started putting her large USAF-issued bag into the trunk when she heard a familiar voice yelling her name. 

“Hey, Griffin! You’re gonna need a bigger cab!” Octavia yelled, walking with Bellamy towards the waiting blonde. 

“What are you guys doing?” Clarke asked, confused to see the brother and sister without their family. “Where are your grandparents?”

“Gramps is in the hospital with some sort of infection. Cellulitis maybe,” Octavia started, throwing her bag into the trunk and sighing at the relief of the missing weight off her back. “Plus we’re not going to let you do this again, Clarke,” she said, sympathy showing in her brown eyes. 

“Guys, really I’m fine,” she said, smiling as best as she could. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Clarke,” Bellamy said after he threw his bag in the trunk as well. “We all know this was the toughest deployment. We’re here for you, okay?” He grabbed her elbows, and looked into her eyes, something that had managed to calm Clarke down before. She took a deep breath, and pulled him into an embrace. Bellamy had always been a brother-figure to her, but even more so since Finn had died. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Bell and O; they were the closest thing she had to a real family. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jet lag was a bitch. 

Clarke always forgot how tired she was during the first few days back in the states. She didn’t have much time to sleep, with meetings and different things scheduled with the Air Force and filling out stacks of paperwork. Luckily she had the Blakes for comedic relief during her first few days back before they headed home to see their grandparents. 

The blonde had yet to hear from her mother, so after three days of being home, she decided to make a trip to the hospital. As much as she hated her mother’s lack of approval towards her career, she was still her mother and Clarke hadn’t seen her in months. 

Walking into Johns Hopkins Hospital immediately reminded Clarke of the turn her life took years ago when she left med school to join the Air Force. She loved medicine, there was no question about that and she was doing exceptionally well in school, but the events that led to her father’s death changed the direction of her career. While she had the support of most of the people in her life, her mother still couldn’t understand why she “threw it all away for a senseless war”. Clarke understood she would never become the surgeon her mother always dreamed her to be, but her mother couldn’t seem to move past her decision. 

She grabbed a cup of coffee from the cafe near the entrance and headed to the surgical floor to try and find the famous Abby Griffin. Nurses who recognized the blonde welcomed her home and gave her hugs, but there was no sign of the general surgeon. 

“Clarke?” A voice came from behind her, and the blonde turned to see a familiar figure calling her name. The man had his motorcycle jacket on and his helmet tucked under his arm, brown hair slicked back from the helmet and the wind. 

“Dr. Kane,” she said, smiling as she moved towards him and received a warm hug from the familiar man. 

“I had no idea you were home,” he said, seemingly confused. “Your mother hasn’t said a word.”

“Are you surprised?” Clarke asked sarcastically, causing Dr. Marcus Kane to smile nervously. Clarke knew the man and her mother were close and he knew of the tensions between the mother-daughter pair. 

“No, I can’t say that I am. How long have you been home?”

“A few days. Haven’t seen the doctor so I figured I would come find her myself.” Kane nodded and pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket, looking through his calendar and nodding to himself.

“I’m pretty sure she took a gunshot wound patient back into surgery this morning. We can head to the gallery and wait for her there if you’d like?” Clarke nodded and smiled. She genuinely enjoyed watching her mother work, and imagined herself performing surgeries had she not joined the Air Force. 

They arrived at the surgical gallery and found it mostly empty with the exception of a few younger-looking faces watching Abby work as if their own lives depended on it. Clarke and Marcus sat in the front row and watched the woman work, looking as confident and elegant as Clarke could remember. 

They sat in silence for about 20 minutes before her mother started suturing the patient on the table, signaling the end of the procedure. She looked up at the gallery as she stepped down from the table, and seemed stunned to see the blonde head of hair watching her. She froze for a second, stripped off her dirty gloves and gown, and disappeared into another room. 

“Well, that was certainly warm and fuzzy,” Clarke muttered under her breath, rubbing her eyes as if she were tired, but in reality it was to keep back tears that were bubbling under the surface. Dr. Kane took a deep breath and tried to find the right words to say. 

“I know things between you two are...strained,” he said, catching a glare from Clarke as if she didn't know how ‘strained’ things really were. “We both heard from a surgeon down at Walter Reed about a group of Special Forces patients they were treating.” Clarke looked at him, her stomach turning into knots as she had a feeling she knew where this conversation was going. “Multiple double amputations, liver lacerations, just horrific injuries from the field that would be seemingly fatal.”

Clarke raised her brow at the last part, waiting for the man to continue. 

“But they were alive. Their commander, Major Heda I believe, told the doctor that some blonde-haired girl had repelled down from her helicopter and saved their lives. Every single one, despite knowing there was a high potential for live bombs.” Clarke couldn't look at Marcus anymore, knowing she was on the verge of crying at any second. Reliving that horrific day was almost too much. “Clarke, I can’t tell you how proud your mother was when she heard the doctor tell this story.”

Clarke snapped her head to look at Kane. Those two words, “mother” and “proud”, hadn't been in the same sentence in years, really since her father had died. 

“She was...proud of me?” Clarke asked, and Marcus smiled before he continued. 

“I know your mother very well, Clarke. I haven’t seen her smile like that in years. And I know that smile. It’s the same one that was plastered on her face when you graduated summa cum laude; the same smile she had when you got into med school. She has a very...peculiar way of showing how she feels, I know, but hearing that doctor tell us how you saved those soldier’s lives was a very proud moment for her.” 

Clarke was speechless. She looked back down at the gallery, shifting her weight from foot to foot, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“Can I ask what that doctor’s name was?” She finally asked. 

“I’ll do you one better. Here’s his contact information.” Marcus scribbled the doctor’s information on a piece of paper and handed it to Clarke with a smile. They stood there for a moment in an awkward silence before it became apparent that Clarke wouldn’t be seeing her mother today. 

“If you see my mother, please let her know that it would be really nice to see her,” Clarke said with a heavy sigh. “She should know where to find me.” Dr. Kane smiled sympathetically and grabbed the girl’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s good to have you home, Clarke.” She smiled and nodded before they both walked out of the gallery and went their separate ways down the hallway. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The train to D.C. was oddly comforting. The bumps created some sort of rhythm that lulled the blonde into a half-sleep, allowing her brain a small amount of rest from her chaotic thoughts. The disappointment from earlier in the day of seeing (but not seeing) her mother moved to the back of her mind, and she concentrated on the bumps and sounds of the train. 

The relaxation from the train quickly evaporated once she walked in the main doors to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. Clarke had been there countless times before, but the anxiety of wondering what happened to those Special Forces soldiers was weighing heavy on her mind. She wanted to find the doctor that had spoken with her mother and Dr. Kane, and she wanted to know what happened to the lives she had supposedly helped save. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, getting the attention of someone at the reception desk just inside the front doors, “I’m looking for Dr. Thelonious Jaha. Do you know if he’s in today?” She asked, nervous butterflies filling her stomach. The woman looked over the top of her glasses, questioning the blonde with her eyes. 

“And you are?” the woman asked. The woman’s attitude irritated Clarke, but she tried to remain calm. 

“Air Force Captain Clarke Griffin, ma’am,” she answered calmly. The woman nodded and pulled out a physician directory before telling the blonde she would page him. Clarke thanked her and took a seat in one of the many chairs that filled the waiting room, brushing off her uniform and watching the numerous people walk in and out of the hospital. 

Her stomach was churning and images from the rescue flashed in her mind. She had seen a number of amputations during her time as a CRO, but not four in one mission, and none as serious as those from the double IED strike. Remembering how bloody the helicopter had been afterwards started to make her physically nauseous. 

“Captain Griffin?” A deep voice interrupted the woman from her disturbing thoughts, and she looked up to see an older black man standing in front of her, smiling as he extended his hand. 

“You must be Dr. Jaha,” she said, extending her hand for a firm handshake. “It’s great to meet you, sir.” 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the daughter of Dr. Abby Griffin, would you?” He asked with a smile still on his face. 

“Yes sir, I am. That’s actually what brings me here today. I saw Dr. Marcus Kane and he told me you had talked of several double-amputees that you were treating,” she said, hesitation in her voice. “Members of US Army Special Forces…” she said, her voice trailing off as he seemed to realize who exactly she was. The smile faded from his face and he took a deep breath. 

“You’re the woman who rescued them,” he stated matter-of-factly. All Clarke could do was nod and he shook her hand again, more firm than the first time and he used his other hand to grab her elbow. 

“Dr. Kane mentioned they had survived and I guess,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath and collect her thoughts, “I guess I just wanted to come down here and see how they were doing. I don’t really know if this is breaking any sort of protocol or anything like that but-” The doctor put up his hand, telling her to stop her rambling. 

“Say no more, Captain. Follow me.” 

The pair made small talk as they made their way towards the floor where the soldiers were recovering. If Clarke was being honest, she wasn't paying any attention to what the doctor had to say. It was like she was moving in slow motion as they walked the hallways, rode the elevator and came to the first room. 

“Sergeant Gustus Tripolis. Double amputation, one above the knee and one right below,” the doctor stated, looking at Clarke in his peripheral vision. 

“He’s still on a respirator?” She asked, turning to look at Dr. Jaha for an explanation. Clarke knew the attack had happened just over a month ago, but her knowledge of the injury didn't warrant a patient to be on a respirator this long.

“Sergeant Tripolis suffered a post-surgical infection and is currently fighting sepsis. We thought after he returned from home from Germany that the infection was almost completely removed, but he’s worsened over the last week. We were forced to put him in a medically induced coma to try and fight the infection.” Clarke nodded, but her brain couldn't help but think if she could have prevented the infection in any way while she had the man in her helicopter. 

They moved down the hall to another room where another double-amputee was laying in bed, seemingly asleep. 

“Sergeant Nyko Olsson, the unit’s medic. Another double-amputation, both above the knee. Another soldier who is alive thanks to your initial work, Captain.” He looked at the blonde, but she couldn’t help but stare at the man in bed, trying her hardest to keep her tears from falling. She had no idea what she was feeling: anger, sadness, grief, but she supposed she was more happy than anything that these men were alive. The medical side of her brain realized there would be months worth of rehabilitation for each man, but her compassionate side realized those who loved them got another chance with their loved one. 

“Dr. Jaha,” a voice called from down the hall. Both the doctor and Clarke turned their head in unison to look in the direction of the voice, and Clarke could have sworn her heart stopped when she saw the source of the voice. 

“Ahh, Major Heda. I’m very glad to see you. I would like to introduce you to someone,” he said, turning to bring Clarke into view. The brunette woman seemed hesitant to keep moving forward, trying to remember where she had seen the blonde woman before. 

“Major Lexa Heda, meet Air Force Captain Clarke Griffin. The woman who helped save your men.”


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke's mouth was dry and she was sure there was no way she would be able to speak. Those green eyes that had captivated her over a month ago as Clarke held the bleeding woman in her arms were even more stunning as the brunette woman stood before her. Lexa took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, visibly trying to contain her emotions and keep them in check. 

"It's great to meet you, ma'am," she said, extending her hand for Clarke to shake. The blonde obliged and took a deep breath before she tried to speak. 

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you back on your feet, Major,” Clarke said as she kept eye-contact with the woman, still captivated by the green eyes that seemed to be staring back into her soul. 

"I suppose I have you to thank for that. At least partially," the woman said without a hint of a smile, or really any sort of emotion. Clarke couldn't read her at all, and it was something the blonde wasn't used to. Dr. Jaha seemed to notice the awkward silence following the handshake and cleared his throat before cutting in. 

"Major Heda, why don't you take Captain Griffin to see the other men? I would join you but I have a staff meeting in 10 minutes that I cannot miss." The brunette nodded and the doctor smiled before continuing. "Captain, it was an absolute pleasure. Please don't be a stranger. You know where to find me." Clarke thanked him and shook his hand before watching him walk down the hallway and through a set of double doors. She turned back to the other woman, only to see her halfway down the other end of the hallway. 

She caught up to the woman and noticed how tightly the brunette's jaw was clenched. 'Good to know I saved the ice queen' Clarke thought to herself. 

"How is your recovery going?" The blonde asked instead of what she was really thinking. 

"Fine, thank you," she said, hardly missing a beat and looking straight ahead. Clarke felt extremely uncomfortable, as if she was stepping on the woman's toes and overstepping her boundaries. She was about to say something when she heard a group of voices, and they came to another room with yet another amputee. 

The two women entered the room and it looked to be the man's family that was talking with him. All of them became silent at the presence of the young brunette woman; not an awkward silence, but one of recognition. 

"Good afternoon, Major. We were just talking about you," an older woman said with a smile, apparently the man's mother. Lexa nodded and motioned to the blonde next to her. 

"I would like you all to meet US Air Force Captain Clarke Griffin. She was on the helicopter that rescued our unit." Clarke felt her cheeks redden, not expecting the other woman to introduce her like that. She could feel all of the eyes in the room on her, and she looked at the man in the bed, who had tears in his eyes. He held his hand out, and Clarke moved forward to shake it. 

"I don't really know how to thank you, ma'am," he said, allowing a tear to fall down his cheek before quickly wiping it away with his other hand. 

"I was just doing my job, sir," she said before watching the soldier's mother move around the bed. Clarke turned to face her just in time to receive a bear-hug from the older woman. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, "for bringing my baby home." Clarke could feel the tears stinging in her own eyes, but she pushed them back, wanting to remain strong. All the blonde could do was nod, not used to these kinds of reunions. Normally, Clarke never knew what happened to the patients after she dropped them at the hospital. It seemed like fate that she ran into Dr. Kane earlier in the day, who led her to Walter Reed, Dr. Jana and subsequently, the patients; the soldiers she risked her own life to save. 

Clarke spent the rest of the day with Lexa visiting the other soldiers and talking with them, listening to their war stories and telling stories of her own.

She was absolutely exhausted, mostly in an emotional sense, when she boarded the train back to Baltimore. The day had started with such promise of seeing her mother, and had ended completely unexpectedly with meeting the Special Forces soldiers that she had help saved over a month ago. She needed someone to talk to about everything that happened during the day, and she dialed Octavia's number without even thinking twice. 

"Captain Clarkey! Miss me already?" Octavia said, her voice dripping in sarcasm, causing Clarke to roll her eyes. "Did you finally see mama bear?"

"Kind of. From a distance," Clarke started saying as she settled herself in an open seat on the train. "I actually ended up visiting Walter Reed today," she said, pausing for some sort of dramatic effect while waiting for Octavia to say something. "I'm on the train back home." 

There was a moment of silence before Octavia asked her how she ended up there. 

"I ran into Dr. Kane when I went to visit my mom at Hopkins. He tried telling me how proud she was of me after some doctor had told them about the mission we went on to save those Army Special Forces soldiers. Remember that one?" 

"How could I forget?" Octavia answered quickly, remembering how she was the first one to back up Clarke's mission plan. 

"Yeah, so anyways I met the doctor that had treated the amputees. They're all alive...all of them," she said, needing a moment to collect herself after remembering the emotional day she had just had. "And remember the woman? Major Heda?"

"The one with the green eyes?" Octavia countered. 

"Yeah, well she was there and those eyes are even more piercing when she's alive and not bleeding out in front of me. It's like they were piercing into my soul," she said. She heard a faint laugh from the other side of the phone, and immediately became defensive. "Are you fucking laughing at me?!"

Octavia let out a full burst of laughter before answering. "Really, Clarke? Piercing into your soul? Are you a poet and don't even know it?"

"Fuck off! I'm trying to talk to you and you're making fun of me, asshat," Clarke countered, pretending like she wasn't hurt by her best friends laughter and apparent lack of support. "All I'm saying is that there's some sort of weird connection between us."

"Uh, yeah you saved her life? She has you to thank for being alive." Clarke sighed, not appreciating her friend's sarcasm. 

"O, I'm being serious. She might be the biggest ice queen I've ever met but when she looks at me with those eyes, it's like she's looking into my soul." 

"Oh my god," Octavia said, her tone changing from sarcastic to completely serious. 

"What? Octavia what is it?" Clarke asked, suddenly worried. 

"You've got the hots for Major Green Eyes!" She yelled into the phone, rendering Clarke speechless while she listened to her best friend scream like a teenage girl. 

"I hate you so much right now, Octavia," Clarke said, trying to keep her voice down on the crowded train. "I call you about something important and you end up laughing at me, asshole," she said as she heard Octavia try to regain her breathing and her composure. 

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I really am," she said, returning to a normal breathing pattern. "Listen, Bell and I need to come back to D.C. for some meetings next week. I'll see you then and you can tell me all about it in person, alright?" She asked, hoping to form a treaty after laughing at her best friend. 

"Yeah whatever. You're still an asshat, Octavia Blake." 

"I love you too, Clarke Griffin. Listen, I have to go but I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I do wanna hear about Walter Reed. I'll talk to you later." Clarke said her goodbye and put her phone in her pocket, allowing the train to lull her into a half asleep again, much like it had earlier in the day. Her mind was swimming with thoughts: the soldiers, their families, her mother, but most of all, Lexa Heda and how her eyes seemed to be the crack in her icy exterior. 

Clarke took a deep breath and leaned her head against the window, finding the rhythm of the train and a few moments of relaxation. 

\----------------

At this point in her Air Force career and after numerous deployments, Clarke was used to waking up short of breath and in a cold sweat. She couldn't escape the nightmares and night terrors filled with gruesome images that flashed through Clarke's mind. Her breathing techniques had become a regular exercise in the middle of the night, and the blonde decided to go down to the kitchen in her mothers house for a glass of water. 

What she wasn't expecting was her mother to already be in the kitchen. 

"Mom, it's 3:00 in the morning...what are you doing up?" She asked. 

"I should ask you the same thing," she said, closing the refrigerator and looking at her daughter. The older woman took a deep breath, and Clarke noticed how exhausted she looked. 

"I just wanted a glass of water," Clarke said, feeling awkward and out of place in her mothers gourmet kitchen. 

"Well, you know where the glasses are. Get some sleep," she said as she moved around the island in the middle of the kitchen. Clarke rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, deciding if it was worth the time and effort to try and talk with her jaded mother. 

"Mom, come on," the blonde said, exasperated. "You really can't even stand to be in the same room as me anymore? I got home four days ago and that's really all you have to say to me?" There were tears in her eyes, and at this point she didn't care if they fell or not. 

Abby stopped walking but didn't turn around right away. Clarke saw her mother take a deep breath, and when she did finally turn around to look at her daughter, there were tears falling down her cheeks. 

"This was what I was afraid of, Clarke," she said, wiping the tears from her face. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You want to know why I was awake?" Clarke just stared back at her mother who was becoming more emotional with each word she spoke. "I heard you screaming from your bedroom, Clarke. This war has changed you, and that's exactly what I was afraid of. This job has turned you into someone who can't sleep through the night without nightmares, and that wouldn't have happened had you stayed in med school and followed your dreams of becoming a surgeon." 

Clarke felt the heat in her neck rise to her face, anger and rage consuming her and she tried her best to remain as calm as possible. 

"First of all, that was your dream for me. I wanted to help people and that's exactly what I'm doing now." Her mother remained where she was, jaw clenched and her eyes turning from sadness to anger. 

"At what cost, Clarke? Look at you: you haven't slept a good night’s sleep in how long? When's the last time you got through the night without a nightmare?"

"It doesn't matter! I do my job so that others may live. I'm willing to sacrifice all of that so those people get home to their families alive." Clarke had to take a moment to collect herself, realizing her heart rate had almost doubled in the short amount of time she had been in the kitchen with her mother. 

"I don't expect you to understand, mom. The only people who will ever truly understand are those who do the job day in and day out. But I need you to try and support me. I need to know I can come home from a tough deployment and you're going to be there for me, not running in the other direction and avoiding me for days on end. You're the only family I have left," she said, the tears finally falling. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and watched her mother shift uncomfortably in the doorway of the kitchen. Abby opened her mouth several times, clearly trying to find words to say to her daughter, but failing time after time. 

“I just worry about you, Clarke. You’re risking your life for people you've never met. You’re flying around in helicopters in the most dangerous country on the planet and I’m supposed to just say ‘okay’?” The blonde nodded as the tears continued to fall, too tired to care about pretending to be strong. “No, Clarke I will never be okay with that. Not when you had everything going for you here and a promising medical career.”

“I do have a promising medical career now, mom!” Clarke yelled, startling her mother. “I know Dr. Jaha told you about the mission we went on, how we saved four double-amputees and four others who were badly wounded. And yet, you still run away from me, refuse to acknowledge the things I’m accomplishing. I don’t need a hug and a kiss from you because I've come to terms with the fact that it’s not going to happen. But a simple ‘nice job’ or ‘good work’ or God forbid, ‘I’m proud of you, Clarke’ would really mean a lot to me.”

The mother and daughter kept eye contact, Clarke’s tears becoming more sporadic as she looked at her mother, hoping she would say something she had been waiting to hear for so long. 

“It’s late, Clarke. Get some sleep,” she said before turning to walk out of the kitchen and away from her daughter. Clarke took a deep breath, a sick feeling remaining in her gut minutes after her mother had walked out of the room. She cursed herself for getting emotional and allowing her emotions to bubble over. 

When the blonde returned to her bedroom, she texted Raven, another Air Force soldier who was home from deployment and living in D.C. with her boyfriend Kyle Wick. Clarke realized she couldn't stay in the same house with her mother anymore, and she needed a reprieve from the emotions that were attached to the house. She sent a quick text to her friend, not expecting to hear from her for another couple of hours. 

Before her head could hit the pillow, her phone buzzed on the end table. 

Raven (03:13): Everything okay Captain?  
Clarke (03:14): I just need to get away from my mom for a bit. You know how it goes.  
Raven (03:14): The futon has your name on it for as long as you need.  
Clarke (03:15): I owe you one. P.S. why are you up so late?  
Raven (03:15): Wick just got home from a trip and a girl’s got needs.  
Clarke (03:16): Don’t let me interrupt. I’ll see you tomorrow horn dog.  
Raven (03:17): *kiss face emoji*

Clarke smiled to herself, feeling lucky that her chosen family, the friends in her life, always seemed to have her back. They knew how to help Clarke ease the pain and tension her mother always managed to bring into the blonde’s life. Even Raven, who was one of Clarke’s best friends despite all of the initial drama with Finn. The girls had moved past it, and without each other, wouldn't have been able to grieve his death. 

The blonde took a deep breath and tried to push all of the thoughts clouding her mind, hoping for a couple of peaceful hours of sleep. 

\-------------------

Clarke was feeling more refreshed after staying at Raven’s apartment for a few days. She still wasn't sleeping through the night, but being away from her mother and everything associated with their strained relationship helped Clarke relax and focus on living her own life and enjoying her time away from war. 

She spent most of her mornings at a small coffee shop a few blocks away from Walter Reed, which was just a coincidence. The blonde loved the feel and vibe of the hole-in-the-wall cafe with it’s exposed brick interior and the art hung on the walls. She found it inspiring in her own artwork and doodles she scribbled while sipping her coffee. 

On a particular cloudy and rainy morning, she tried her hand at sketching portraits of different people in the cafe. Clarke considered herself more apt towards landscapes, but was drawn to the idea of sketching strangers and trying to capture their emotions. She was drawing one of the baristas when she looked up to find a familiar figure in line looking up at the menu board, seemingly trying to figure out what to order. 

“Good morning, Major Heda. What can I get for you this morning?” the barista asked her with a warm smile. The brunette woman looked at the menu for another brief moment and answered with a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. 

“Hello, Anna. Just a large latte this morning, please,” she said and handed the younger woman her credit card. Clarke knew she was staring, but that connection she felt towards the woman, ever since she rescued her, was still there. There was something about how the Major walked and talked, the way she demanded respect and attention, that Clarke admired. 

And if Clarke was being honest with herself, she thought the woman was stunning. 

Lexa turned in time to see Clarke looking her way, and paused for a second before walking towards the blonde. Clarke could feel the heat rising to her face, a blush settling on her cheeks from realizing the brunette had caught her staring. 

“Captain Griffin, what a pleasure to see you here,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all,” Clarke answered, surprised the woman wanted to sit with her. The blonde remembered how icy the other woman had been at the hospital, barely speaking and answering questions in two or three words. “It’s good to see you.”

“You as well, Captain.”

“Clarke,” the blonde replied quickly, “You can call me Clarke. Captain seems so...formal.” The brunette smiled faintly, keeping her eye contact with the woman across from her. 

“The guys have been asking about you, Clarke.” The blonde didn't say anything, but raised her eyebrow questioningly. “They enjoyed your visit the other day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I really wasn't sure if I was overstepping my boundaries or anything like that, but when I heard you all survived, I guess I just had to see it for myself.” Clarke saw the other woman’s smile evaporate quickly and she took a deep breath. 

“My men are strong and we've been fortunate to have exceptional medical care, which started with you, Clarke.” The blonde could only smile as the other woman complimented her before the barista called Lexa’s name to let her know her latte was ready. “Please feel free to come by the hospital anytime. Like I said, the guys really enjoyed talking with you,” she said as she stood up and headed to the coffee bar for her latte. “Enjoy your day, Clarke,” she said with a faint smile as she walked toward the front door. Clarke smiled as she watched the woman put the beret back on and walk out of the cafe, wondering where the softer side of Lexa Heda had come from.


	4. Chapter 4

A couple of days after Clarke ran into Lexa at the cafe, she decided to head back to Walter Reed to see the Special Forces unit. She was curious to see how their recoveries were going, and she needed to focus her energy on anything other than the fact that she was still staying on Raven’s futon instead of her mother’s home in Baltimore. 

The blonde removed her beret upon entering the hospital, and the woman at the front desk recognized her with a smile this time around and gave her a visitor’s tag. She thanked the woman and headed towards the set of elevators down the hall. Clarke didn’t get nervous very easily, but she noticed there was butterflies in her stomach, and she decided it was because she was going to see soldiers who had lost limbs and were suffering on their road to recovery. The butterflies wouldn’t be due to seeing Major Lexa Heda. That couldn’t be true. 

At least that’s what the blonde kept telling herself on the elevator ride to see the soldiers. 

She came to the wing most of the soldiers were staying in, and saw Staff Sergeant Lincoln Gona walking down the hallway in her direction. Clarke had noticed before the man had a stoic expression on his face at almost all times, but today it looked more forlorn than anything. 

“Good afternoon, Staff Sergeant,” the blonde said as she met Lincoln in the middle of the hallway. The man had a slight limp after suffering shrapnel wounds to his right leg, but had almost made a complete recovery.

“Captain,” he said simply, looking at her with glassy eyes. “Are you looking for Major Heda?”

“Uh, I actually just stopped by to see how you all were doing. Major Heda mentioned the other day that the men had enjoyed my visit and…” Clarke stopped herself and took in a sharp breath, realizing she sounded arrogant. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I just-”

“I understand. Yes, the guys did enjoy talking with you,” he said with a faint smile. The aforementioned woman then stepped out of a room with Dr. Jaha, both with solemn looks on their faces. Lexa turned her head to see Lincoln and Clarke talking, and headed in their direction, her face rendering a now expressionless look. 

“Captain Griffin,” she said, nodding and acknowledging the blonde’s presence. “Gona, I need to speak with you, please.” And just like that, the pair was down the hallway and into the room the brunette had just come from. Clarke was slightly taken back by the icy demeanor of the other woman after she had seen the softer side of her just days before at the cafe. 

Clarke didn’t know much about Major Lexa Heda, but she did know the woman could be warm one minute and ice cold the next. 

“Captain Griffin, it’s great to see you,” Dr. Jaha said, pulling Clarke from her thoughts of the other woman. 

“You as well, Dr. Jaha. It seems like I might have caught you all on a bad day,” she said hesitantly, wanting to know what was going on but realizing it wasn’t her place to ask directly. The man took a deep breath, and removed his glasses before rubbing his eyes with hands. 

“Unfortunately, you’re right, Captain. Sergeant Tripolis’ condition has declined rapidly. Now, normally I wouldn’t be able to talk about the details of a patient so openly, but I feel as though you are an exception,” he said with a faint smile, which the blonde reciprocated. “He is now in multiple organ failure due to the sepsis. He simply could not live at this point without the respirator, and Major Heda is his medical power of attorney. She is forced with the decision to terminate his life or keep him on the ventilator with the hopes of finding organ donations over time.”

Clarke felt her heart jump into her throat, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. The man in which she helped save, and presumably someone who was extremely close to Lexa, was dying - would die without a machine pumping air into his lungs - and Lexa had to decide whether to keep him alive. 

The blonde took several deep breaths and tried to regain her composure before she spoke.   
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Dr. Jaha,” she said, unable to think of any other words that seemed appropriate. 

“It is a huge blow to the entire unit, as you can imagine. The guys are having a pretty difficult time wrapping their head around the news,” he said as they walked slowly down the hallway. “Sergeant Tripolis is very close to Major Heda, kind of her ‘right hand man’, if you will.”

“How is she doing? With the news and having to make this kind of decision?” Clarke asked, worried about the woman she knew nothing about. There was that feeling of a connection though, drawing her back to the woman and feeling things for someone she had barely just met. 

“I’m sure she’s devastated, but she hides it well. She’s truly a leader, staying strong for her men even when faced with such a decision.”

“I can’t imagine,” Clarke said, realizing her job was the very opposite of what Lexa was faced with. The blonde now spent her life trying to save people no matter what, no matter the danger. 

“She’s a very strong woman, Captain. I don’t have any doubts she’ll make the best decision for Sergeant Tripolis.” Clarke nodded and didn’t know what else to say. She walked with the man down the hallway, glancing into rooms of other soldiers who showed the same expressions as Lexa and Lincoln. The blonde suddenly felt like she shouldn’t be there; that she was intruding on a very personal matter in which she had no business being apart of. 

“I should get going. It seems like I chose a bad day to visit the men. Please give my regards to Major Heda and the rest of the guys,” Clarke said as Dr. Jaha looked at her with a puzzled face. He began to say something, but was interrupted by a feminine voice behind the blonde.

“You don’t have to leave, Captain,” she said, catching Clarke off guard and sneaking up behind her. “Dr. Jaha, after careful consideration and talking with Staff Sergeant Gona, we’ve determined it’s in Sergeant Tripolis’ best interest to discontinue the use of the respirator and the other machines keeping him alive.” Clarke was struck by how calm the woman was as she essentially told the doctor to take Tripolis off life-support. The blonde noted a hint of wetness in the other woman’s eyes, but her stoic nature was more dominant, and she oozed calm and a professionalism that Clarke hoped she embodied as well. 

“Very well, Major. There will be some paperwork for you to fill out, but please feel free to spend some time with Sergeant Tripolis if you wish. Whenever you and the rest of your unit is ready, we will begin,” the doctor said, sadness present in his eyes as he touched the brunette’s shoulder before walking over to the nurses’ station. 

“Major Heda,” Clarke said, quickly realizing after she started speaking that she really didn’t know what to say to the other woman, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I really can’t begin to imagine how hard that decision must have been for you,” she said, noting the unwavering expression on Lexa’s face. 

“It wasn’t a hard decision when I really thought about it,” Lexa said, beginning to walk towards the dying man’s room. “Sergeant Tripolis was a true warrior and truth be told, he would hate to be treated as an invalid without his legs. He lived for the Army and it would have broken his heart not to be able to serve in combat anymore.” The two women stopped and looked through the window at the lifeless man laying in bed. 

“Dr. Jaha said he is very close to you," Clarke said, looking at the woman next to her before continuing. “Kind of like your right-hand man?” Lexa looked down at her feet briefly before returning her gaze back to the man in the room. 

“He’s like family to me,” she said as her eyes became glassy. “He had a very rough childhood and this unit was his family.” 

Clarke felt the urge to touch the woman next to her to show how she understood the pain she was feeling. She decided against it however, shifting nervously instead. 

“Don’t feel like you have to leave, Captain,” she said, bringing Clarke back to reality from the thoughts running rampant in her mind. “You helped bring him home. We’re all extremely grateful for that.” Clarke simply nodded and smiled as she looked at the woman who turned to look back at her. 

“That would mean a lot to me, Major. I don’t have anywhere to be until later this evening.” Clarke and Lexa locked eyes for a moment, and Lexa nodded before entering the man's room. The blonde could feel her heart rate increase as she watched the other woman pull up a chair next to the bed, take Tripolis' limp hand in her own, and begin to softly talk to the man. 

Clarke's vision was suddenly flooded with memories of Finn, lying with him as he slowly died in front of her. She could feel tears beginning to form behind her eyes at the very memory of the dead soldier, but her phone started to vibrate and pulled her from the gruesome memories. She took five deep breaths as she looked at the name on the screen, trying to bring her heart rate back to normal and pray her voice wasn’t as shaky as she felt. 

"Hey, O," she said as she walked away from the room. 

"Captain Clarke, you sound like the biggest Debbie Downer if I've ever heard one," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Where the hell are you and why do you sound like someone just stole your puppy?" Clarke couldn't help but smile at the sound of Octavia's voice. The girl always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when the blonde did her very best to hide it. 

"First of all, I resent that name. Secondly, I'm at Walter Reed. We better still be on for drinks tonight because I'm definitely gonna need it." Clarke was almost always responsible, but times like these called for a combination of alcohol and Octavia. 

"Gonna need a drink?! Damn Clarkey! Maybe you should invite Major Green Eyes and have yourself a frustration fuck while you're at it." The blonde rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. 

"You're projecting your sexual frustration on me again, you horn dog." She could hear a scoff followed by a brief laugh on the other end. 

"Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Clarke. Anyways, yes we're still on for drinks. 9:00 at Wandos?" 

"9:00 at Wandos works for me. See you two weirdos later." They said their goodbye and Clarke turned back to the hallway that seemed to promise bad memories. 

\--------------------------------

A couple of hours after Lexa had made the decision to take the soldier off life-support, the time had come to actually turn off the machines. The rest of the unit crammed into the small room with Lexa having never left the dying man’s side. Dr. Jaha entered the room as Clarke stood outside looking through the glass window. Nothing had to be said, instead a series of nods between the Major and the doctor prompted the beginning of Gustus’ end. 

Dr. Jaha began turning each machine off one by one, explaining each time what he was turning off and the effect it would have on the soldier. Once he had turned everything off, he told the group it could take minutes or longer for the man to completely succumb to his injuries. They all nodded as he left the room and stood next to Clarke, silence consuming the heavy air in the hallway. 

The blonde was mesmerized by Lexa, who had miraculously held herself together much better than Clarke could imagine anyone doing. The brunette’s hand remained on Gustus’ chest over his heart, and Clarke watched as Lexa bent down and whispered something in the man’s ear as the rest of the unit quickly wiped away any tears that managed to escape their glassy eyes. 

Several minutes passed before Dr. Jaha took a deep breath and stepped back into the room, announcing that Gustus’ heart had officially stopped and he had passed. Each soldier from the unit went over and kissed the dead man’s forehead, some whispering soft words and others too overcome with emotion to say anything. After they had all left, Lexa kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand, and exited the room. Clarke caught her glance as the Major walked through the doorway, and for what seemed like minutes, the two exchanged looks that conveyed understanding; what pain and loss really felt like, a feeling no one could possibly understand unless their own heart had felt like it was being ripped from their own chest. 

The brunette moved next to Clarke, glancing down at the blonde’s nervous hands before returning her gaze to the hospital room which was now occupied by nurses preparing his body to be moved from the room. 

“Your wristband,” Lexa said, her voice sounding faint and tired. “You’ve known a loss like this, Captain.” Clarke looked down at the black metal wristband on her right arm, engraved with Finn Collin’s name, rank and the dates of his birth and death. The blonde took a deep breath, and swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in her throat. 

“Yes, I do,” she said, trying to find the words to explain what happened to the man who had tried to give her everything. “I see death all the time in my job, but nothing prepared me for what it would feel like to lose one of your own.” Clarke kept her gaze straight ahead, tears prickling her eyeballs and she willed them away, trying to remain strong in front of the beautiful, stoic woman next to her. 

“He was close to you?” Lexa asked, glancing over at Clarke. 

“It was...complicated,” Clarke started, remembering the feeling of being close to Finn, feeling his love but struggling to reciprocate the same for him. “I wasn’t sure I would ever be the same after he died.”

“The dead are gone, and the living are hungry,” the brunette said, fixing her gaze on the nurses working on her now deceased friend. Clarke suddenly felt nauseous, reliving the deaths of those close to her. All she could do was nod, and stare straight ahead. 

“Thank you again for letting me be apart of this,” Clarke finally said, breaking the silence and heavy tension that had fallen over the two women. Lexa simply nodded as a slight smile tugged at her lips. “Listen, I have to get going, but if any of you need anything, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.” The two women were facing each other now, and Clarke’s heart skipped a beat as she saw an actual smile, small-allbeit, creep onto the Major’s face. 

“Will do, Captain. Have a good evening.” Clarke smiled back and turned around towards the exit at the end of the hall. She could feel Lexa’s eyes on her back, watching as she made her way towards the double doors leading to the elevator, and she smiled to herself despite her heavy heart. 

\-----------------------------

“Oh my god,” Clarke croaked as she squinted her eyes and pursed her lips, “what the fuck was that?!” She pushed her shotglass towards Octavia who was across the table from her, a grin from ear-to-ear plastered on her face. 

“The bartender called it ‘Alien Brains’. C’mon, Captain! You were the one who wanted to drink tonight!” Octavia yelled, slapping Clarke’s arm to really get her point across. 

“I wanted to drink something normal! You know, whiskey, gin, vodka...not this horseshit ‘Alien Brains’ shot from hell!” Both Octavia and Bellamy laughed at the blonde and she slapped them both. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll get the next round,” Bellamy said before getting out of his seat to head to the bar. “What do you all want?”

“Whiskey sour please,” Clarke replied quickly. 

“O?” The smaller brunette seemed to be in a trance as she stared across the crowded bar. “Octavia, what do you want to drink?” When she continued to ignore her older brother, Clarke turned around to see what she was staring at. 

“Staff Sergeant Gona?” Clarke said under her breath, not thinking anyone could hear her. 

“You know him?!” Octavia yelled, practically jumping out of her seat to slap Clarke. The blonde was still staring at the tall man, and quickly realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Holy shit...it’s Major Green Eyes,” Octavia said as Lexa stepped out from behind Lincoln. The green-eyed girl found Clarke and locked eyes with the blonde. Clarke felt her heart start to race and she was rendered speechless, staring at the beautiful girl across the bar who was out of her uniform for the first time. Her ripped black skinny jeans seemed to be painted onto her legs and the loose-fitting shirt hugged the brunette in all of the right places. 

The blonde blinked her eyes a few times to try and gain some sense of composure as the pair began to walk over to their table. With her heart still in her throat, Clarke said some silent prayers to whatever higher-being existed to help her stay cool in front of the beautiful woman, and to help her get through this night in one piece.


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke had to remind herself to stop staring at the seemingly perfect woman walking towards her. She was an Air Force Captain, after all, and had to remember to keep her cool. She smiled and got out of her seat as the pair got closer to the table, ready to introduce them to the Blakes. 

“I have to admit, you’re the last two people I expected to see walking in here,” Clarke said with a smile. Lincoln smiled in return and Lexa gave her a mischievous grin, something she definitely wasn’t used to or prepared for in any manner. The blonde felt her heart skip a beat at the very sight.

“It’s been a long couple of weeks. I figured we could use a few drinks to celebrate Gustus’ life for a bit,” the brunette said, keeping her eyes locked with Clarke’s. “Plus, I figured the company couldn’t be too bad, either.” She nodded in the direction of Bellamy and Octavia, who was giving Lincoln her best “fuck-me” eyes. 

“Did you...know we were going to be here?” Clarke asked, confusion written all over her face and in her voice. Lincoln and Lexa looked at each other briefly with a smile before answering. 

“With all due respect, Captain, we are in Special Forces. We know just about everything,” Lexa said coyly, a sarcastic smile painted on her face. 

“Or, I might have overheard you on the phone,” Lincoln finally said, a grin also plastered across his face. Clarke laughed quickly and smiled in return before turning to introduce the pair to the Blakes asthey all sat down at the table. 

“Drinks?” Bellamy asked, staying standing up as the rest of the group settled into their seats. “They’re on me.” 

“Top-shelf whiskey on the rocks, three fingers,” Lexa quickly answered, forcing Clarke to quickly turn her attention to the brunette who was sitting straight up in her chair. The blonde raised her eyebrow questioningly as a smile curled onto her lips. The brunette looked at Clarke and took a deep breath before continuing. “Gustus was a sucker for good whiskey. It only seems right to remember him by it.” The blonde’s eye brow went back to it’s normal position as she watched Lexa’s eyes become glassy, but only briefly before she looked back at Bellamy. “Sorry if that’s a little pricey.”

“Hey, no worries,” he replied with a shrug. “Lincoln? Octavia? You still haven’t told me what you’re drinking.” 

“I’ll just have whatever’s on tap,” Lincoln replied as he briefly averted his gaze from the petite brunette next to him. 

“Yeah, just a beer for me. I don’t care what kind,” Octavia said after Lincoln. The two went back to talking to each other, and Clarke saw Lexa roll her eyes out of her peripheral vision. 

“He’s such a sucker for brunettes,” Lexa said, shaking her head with a smile on her face. “Especially badass military brunettes.” Clarke laughed and looked at Lexa, still captivated by how beautiful the woman next to her was.   
“Who said Octavia’s a badass?” the blonde replied sarcastically, challenging Lexa. 

“Well, she’s a friend of yours, isn’t she?” Lexa replied without skipping a beat. Clarke couldn’t help but stare at Lexa, wondering whether the Major was actually flirting with her. 

“Touche,” Clarke replied before taking a sip of the drink Bellamy had just put in front of her before he sat down. The group lifted their drinks and yelled, “To Gustus!” in unison and Clarke felt the Major’s eyes on her, feeling a blush rise up into her cheeks. 

All the blonde could think about was how thankful she was for the liquid courage in front of her to help calm the nerves that had quickly bubbled up inside her. 

\--------------------------------------------

Hours later and following numerous drinks, the group was laughing at funny war stories from each of their deployments. Octavia was practically on top of Lincoln, leaning into him with every fit of giggles and Bellamy simply observed with a smile on his face. Lexa and Clarke had brushed arms on several occasions, causing sparks to erupt within Clarke and if she was being completely honest with herself, it scared the shit out of her. 

The blonde felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, and found a text from Raven that simply said, “Wick’s here for the night...could get hot and heavy so beware ;)”. Clarke quickly frowned at the prospect of going back to Raven’s to hear her best friend having sex with the very loud Wick. 

“Ah, fuck. C’mon,” Clarke said under her breath, catching the attention of Bellamy and Lexa. They both looked at her with puzzled looks, and the blonde took a deep breath before elaborating. “Raven’s going to be boning Wick all night. Bell, can I crash on your hotel floor tonight? I’m really sorry but you know how Wick is…”

“Of course,” he responded quickly and with a laugh. Bellamy had only met Wick a handful of times, but had heard countless stories of the sexual endeavours between Raven and her boyfriend. 

“I have a spare bedroom, Clarke. You’re welcome to stay at my place tonight,” Lexa said, her tone sounding serious for the first time that night. Clarke simply looked at her, and the brunette rolled her eyes before continuing. “I’m not asking you to come back to my place for a one night stand, Clarke. It’s a genuine offer of a bed versus the hotel floor.” Clarke nodded and looked over at Bellamy who simply shrugged. “Think about it. I have to pee,” Lexa said before getting up and heading to the bathroom. Clarke took a deep breath and sunk in her seat. 

“Princess, what’s the problem?” Bellamy asked with a smile a nudge of the blonde’s shoulder. “A hot girl, an Army Special Forces Major no less, just invited you back to her place and you look like I just kicked your puppy.” Clarke took a deep breath before looking at the man next to her.   
“She makes me nervous, Bell. And not a ‘she could be a serial killer’ kind of nervous. More like, ‘I’ve got the hots for her’ kind of nervous. Get what I’m saying?” Bellamy smiled and put his beer down before propping his elbows on the table. 

“I think it’s pretty obvious she has the hots for you too, Clarke,” he said, catching Clarke attention immediately. 

“What makes you so sure, genius?” she replied dryly. 

“C’mon, Captain. She been flirting with you since the moment they walked in. Any idiot could see that.” When Clarke simply looked at him without a response, the man rolled his eyes and grabbed the blonde by her shoulders. “Clarke Griffin, you of all people deserve to have fun. I haven’t seen you this nervous over anyone since Finn, and Lexa seems pretty legit. I mean, she’s hot and a badass. Just,” he paused looking up to see Lexa heading back from the bathroom, “just do something for yourself for once instead of worrying about the rest of us.” The blonde smiled at him and sat back up in her seat as Lexa returned to the table. 

“So? Floor or guest bed?” Lexa asked with a smile hinting at her lips. 

Clarke smiled and arched her eyebrow before responding. “The guest bed is an offer I can’t pass up.” Lexa smiled in return and looked over at Lincoln and Octavia who were making out right there at the table. She rolled her eyes and looked back at Clarke, who was laughing at the disgusted look on Bellamy’s face. 

“Well, if you’re ready to head out, I am too. Bellamy, think you can handle Romeo and Juliet over there?” Lexa said with a laugh. He sighed before nodding his head, and Clarke rose out of her chair, kissing the top of Bellamy’s head before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand as she followed Lexa towards the exit.


	6. Chapter 6

The 20 minute cab ride to the outside of D.C. was filled with easy silence. Both women looked out of their respective windows, and while this normally would feel awkward to Clarke, she didn’t feel the need to make small talk. They both seemed to appreciate the quiet that accompanies the night and the steady hum of the cab engine beneath their feet. 

After a quick argument about who was going to pay for the cab fare, an argument in which Clarke won after insisting she pay since she was staying for free at Lexa’s, the pair of women entered an old brick train depot that had been converted into an apartment building. The blonde immediately felt at home in the building with the high arching windows in the lobby and the soft lighting leading the way towards the stairs. Despite the old exterior, the interior was newly renovated, and reminded Clarke of something she would see on a home improvement show with the sleek furniture, ornate lighting and soft colors coating the non-brick walls. 

After climbing the stairs to the third level and walking to the end of a hallway, Lexa unlocked her front door and they stepped inside the lofted apartment. Clarke was somewhat in awe at how beautifully simple the place was. Large floor-to-ceiling windows looked out towards a wooded area and an oversized couch was placed in front of them. The apartment was nearly spotless, not surprising for military personnel, but there was still a charm and warmth that engulfed the large, open space. Clarke couldn’t exactly put her finger on it, but she was more relaxed than she had been in a long time. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Lexa said softly, dragging Clarke out of her thoughts. The blonde turned around and saw the brunette in the kitchen, looking beautiful in the soft lighting of the apartment. 

“Do you have any tea?” Clarke asked, noticing the kettle sitting on the stove. Lexa smiled softly and nodded her head, grabbing the kettle and placing it under the water faucet. 

“You can make yourself at home, Clarke,” Lexa said, noticing that the blonde was simply just standing in the middle of the apartment. Clarke smiled and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island, watching as Lexa started the stove to heat the kettle. The brunette moved so fluidly around the kitchen, and Clarke was truly mesmerized. 

“Your place is really nice,” Clarke said, trying to pull herself out of her thoughts. “How long have you lived here?”

“Almost a year,” she said, pulling an assortment of teas from one of the kitchen cabinets. “I obviously haven’t been able to enjoy it too much with the deployment, but I really like it out here away from the city.” Clarke nodded and smiled at the response. “What about you, Clarke? What’s got you couch-surfing all over D.C.?” 

The blonde smiled as she straightened out her back and adjusted the watch on her left wrist. “I usually stay with my mother up in Baltimore but,” Clarke paused, wondering if she should open up the can of worms that was the relationship with her mother, “there’s been some tension between us so I’m just...giving her some space,” she said, rubbing her hands along her thighs. 

Lexa nodded in response, turning her attention towards the whistling kettle. The brunette grabbed two mugs from another cabinet and placed them in front of Clarke, motioning for her to chose a tea before she poured the boiling water. 

“Is your relationship with her usually so strained?” Lexa asked as she poured water into the mugs. Clarke would normally be thrown off by such a seemingly invasive question, but she felt at ease with the other woman. 

“Over the last few years, yes,” the blonde responded, adding cream to her hot tea. “I used to be the golden child but that’s definitely changed.” Clarke’s eyes met Lexa’s and it was as if there was some permission for Clarke to continue, an unspoken word of encouragement. “Things changed quite a bit when I decided to join the Air Force.” Lexa looked puzzled, her brows furrowing as Clarke took a deep breath. “I dropped out of med school to join and in her eyes, I was throwing my life away.”

“Even though you’ve saved countless lives overseas?” Lexa replied quickly. Clarke smiled at the brunette’s defensiveness and nodded her head. 

“Ever since I was little, she dreamt of me following in her footsteps to become a surgeon. And, for a long time, I thought that was my dream too. I got into the best colleges, the best med school, and I was on track to make those dreams come true but...some things change; priorities change.” Clarke looked back at Lexa, who was standing across the island from her with her jaw clenched and her expression stoic. 

“What changed?” was all the brunette asked, and Clarke suddenly felt the pang of heartbreak come over her. She looked away and took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to be strong in front of the woman across from her.

“My father,” Clarke said, wrapping her hands around the warm mug for comfort. “My father was killed overseas and I just...felt like I had to do something more with my life, you know? I want to make him proud and I want to make sure other kids and other families don’t feel the loss I felt when he died.” Clarke could feel the tears welling behind her eyes, but she put all of her effort into not letting them fall. 

“Was he in the service?” Lexa asked quietly, practically whispering. 

“No, he was a private contractor working overseas to build schools in war-torn areas.” Clarke closed her eyes and pictured her father’s face and his smile that could light up an entire room. “The car he was in hit an IED and he bled out on the side of the road.”

Clarke felt a warm hand on her arm and opened her eyes to see Lexa reaching across, squeezing the blonde’s arm in comfort. They locked eyes, again conveying an understanding of loss and everything that comes with it. 

“I’m so sorry about your father, Clarke,” the brunette said, gently rubbing her thumb along Clarke’s arm in comfort. “And I’m also sorry your mother can’t understand the incredible work you’re doing. You saved my life, my unit’s lives and I can’t even imagine how many other lives you’ve saved and impacted. I hope you know how important your work is, because the rest of us wouldn’t be here without you.” 

All Clarke could do was look at Lexa in amazement, smiling at the person in front of her who had one of the most stoic and hard exteriors of anyone the blonde had ever met, but managed to transform into someone comforting Clarke unlike anyone had before. She had just met this woman days before, but it was as if she had known her for years. 

Clarke glanced at the time on the microwave, which read 3:37 and she quickly sat up in her seat. 

“Holy shit it’s late. I’m so sorry. Here I am, babbling about my sob story and you’re probably exhausted.” Lexa smiled and released her hand from Clarke’s arm. 

“You weren’t babbling, Clarke, but it is late. I’ll show you where the guest room is.” The pair of women left their mugs on the counter as Lexa led the way up to the loft and the guest bed. Once they reached the room, the blonde almost gasped at how comfortable the bed looked. White linen sheets and a plush white comforter lined the bed, and looked a thousand times better than Raven’s old futon. 

“There’s some extra clothes in the dresser if you don’t want to sleep in jeans,” Lexa said with a slight smile, pointing to the dresser next to the bed. “The bathroom is downstairs if you need it as well. Please make yourself at home, okay?” Clarke smiled and nodded as the brunette moved around her, but Clarke grabbed her arm before she could start down the steps. 

“Hey, thank you,” Clarke said, capturing the green eyes before her. “For letting me stay here and listening to me.” 

Lexa smiled softly and nodded her head. “Sleep well, Clarke.”

\---------------------------------

Clarke could have sworn she had never been this comfortable in her entire life. 

Engulfed in the down comforter and pillows in Lexa’s bed was something close to magic in her mind, and she felt more rested than she had in years. She fumbled around the nightstand until she found her phone, and was horrified to see it was already after 10:00. The blonde stilled her movements, listening for Lexa in the apartment, but heard nothing. She pulled back the sheets and groaned at the exit from the warm and comfortable bed. 

Clarke looked over the half-wall of the loft and saw no sign of the brunette, so she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen to find a paper coffee cup with a note attached to it on the counter. 

“Clarke - thought you might enjoy a latte. Out running errands but please make yourself at home. - LH”

The blonde caught herself smiling at the note like a child and quickly took a sip, a moan escaping her lips at the taste of the vanilla latte, her favorite. Her thoughts returned to last night, remembering how she opened up to the other woman and how comfortable she felt doing it. Only her closest friends knew about her father’s death and the turmoil it had caused to the relationship with her mother. Yet, Lexa didn’t seem fazed and even brought her a latte the next morning. 

Clarke took the coffee and moved to the couch, revelling at how comfortable it was. She was amazed at the comfort of the entire apartment: from the furniture, the bed, but most of all, the overall atmosphere inside the space. 

“Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa said as she stepped from the hallway leading to the bathroom and her bedroom. The blonde was startled, not knowing the brunette was in the apartment. 

“Hi um, sorry I didn’t know you were here,” Clarke said as a blush began to rise to her cheeks. 

“It’s a special forces thing. Stealth is the name of the game,” the brunette said with a smile and a wink, causing Clarke to nearly fall off the couch. “Really, I just tried to keep quiet while you slept. I hope I didn’t wake you up,” she said, continuing to dry her curly hair with the towel she was holding. The brunette was wearing a fitted tank top, and for the first time, Clarke saw the tribal tattoo on Lexa’s right arm. She looked at it and at the toned muscles accompanying the tattoo. 

“No, you didn’t,” Clarke said, chiding herself for staring like an idiot. “I slept like a baby.” She paused for a moment, and realized it was one of the first times since she got back from her deployment that she had slept through the night without any nightmares. She smiled at Lexa while thinking about it, and the brunette smiled back. “Thanks for the latte, by the way. Vanilla’s my favorite.”

“I figured as much,” Lexa replied and sat down at the other end of the couch. They both sat facing each other, feet curled under their legs. There was an easy silence between them, soaking up the view outside before Clarke decided to speak her mind.

“So, I talked your ear off about my family last night and didn’t really give you a chance to talk,” Clarke said hesitantly, not sure if she was stepping over any boundaries with the other woman. “What’s your story, Lexa Heda?”

“Well, Clarke Griffin,” she started saying with a coy smile, “I enlisted my senior year of high school. Both of my parents are former military, both grandparents, aunts and uncles, etc. Basically, I was destined for the military,” she said, keeping eye contact with the blonde. “My native ancestors were tribal warriors and the legacy has been passed down for generations. Obviously, war is a little different now but, I like to think of myself as a warrior. It’s in my blood.”

Clarke was taken back by the woman across from her. She oozed confidence and a coolness that the blonde had never seen before by another woman, and it made her heart race. She was simply captivated by Lexa. 

“Wow,” Clarke said with a smile, “that’s...that’s really incredible. Do you have siblings?”

“No. My parents were too focused on their careers to have more than one,” she said, matter-of-fact. They sat there for a few moments, just looking at each other and once again, enjoying the silence. 

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” Clarke suddenly said, bringing Lexa’s attention back to the blonde. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t even ask. I should let you get on with your day,” she said as she got up and started heading to the loft to change out of Lexa’s extra clothes. 

“Clarke,” Lexa said as she got up from the couch and moved towards the flustered blonde, “Clarke, I don’t have anything going on today,” she said, lightly grabbing Clarke’s wrist and turning her around. “I promise.”

The blonde glanced down at Lexa’s hand on her arm, thinking about how gentle the other woman’s touch was despite her sometimes rough exterior. Clarke was used to pushing any sort of feelings she might have for someone out of her mind, always going back to the career-oriented woman she had become. There was something about the brunette, however, that made those feelings want to stay. She knew what Bellamy had said the night before was true; Lexa was the first person that made her nervous and made her feeling something since Finn had died, and it was refreshing for the blonde. 

“I’m going to use the restroom, if you don’t mind,” Clarke said, taking a deep breath and smiling at the woman in front of her. Lexa rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back, swinging her arm towards the hallway that led to the bathroom. 

“No, I don’t mind, Clarke,” Lexa said with a laugh, stepping into the kitchen and opening the fridge as Clarke looked over at the brunette playfully, admiring the other woman’s toned arms as she rummaged through the fridge. The blonde smiled to herself as she kept walking down the hallway to the bathroom, but stopped to look at the pictures lining the long hallway. 

There were several older pictures of whom Clarke assumed to be Lexa’s parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and beyond. All had the same stoic expression she had seen on the brunette’s face before, and it made Clarke smile. Lexa was nothing if not proud of where she came from, the blonde had gathered, and it shone through as she looked over the photographs, noticing traits that had been passed down for generations; the hard-set jaw, piercing gazes, and the confidence to lead an entire tribe, team or unit. 

Clarke took another step and noticed a photo of a woman who didn’t look anything like Lexa or her family members. She was brunette, but had blue eyes and a soft smile that seemed to glow beyond the parameters of a picture. She looked to be wearing a police uniform and despite being at attention, there was a smile that Clarke couldn’t help but stare at. 

Another step led to a picture of the mysterious woman and Lexa, laughing together in the photo. It was the happiest she had seen the brunette in the short amount of time she had known her and Clarke smiled, but she couldn’t help the drop she felt in her stomach. She realized she was stupid to not even consider the possibility that Lexa could have a girlfriend. She chastised herself, not only for being so blind but for feeling some sort of attachment to the Major. 

The blonde finished up in the bathroom and returned to the kitchen, finding Lexa in front of the stove cooking something that smelled absolutely delicious. Clarke pulled the barstool out from the counter, causing Lexa to turn around at the noise of the chair sliding against the wood floor. 

“Everything okay, Clarke? I was about to send a search and rescue team back there,” she said sarcastically, arching her eyebrow at Clarke when she saw the blonde roll her eyes. 

“I was just looking at the photos on the wall,” the blonde responded, noticing the brunette’s muscles tense at the words. “I hope that’s okay,” she said, trailing off as Lexa continued her cooking after a brief pause. 

“Of course,” the brunette said curtly, adding salt and pepper distractedly to the pan. 

“Can I ask who the woman in the photos is?” Clarke asked before she had the chance to stop herself from asking the deeply personal question. Lexa took a deep breath, set the spoon down and turned the burner off before wiping her hands on a hand towel. She turned around and looked at Clarke with her signature stoic expression before she answered. 

“That is my ex-fiance, Costia,” she said and Clarke noted the hint of sadness in her voice. Lexa pursed her lips and took a deep breath before she continued. “She was killed in the line of duty a couple of years ago.” 

Clarke took a sharp breath, feeling the familiar pang of sadness enter her body. She locked eyes with Lexa and looked for any hint of feeling behind the stoic expression. 

“I’m so sorry, Lexa,” she said, not sure what else to say to the woman in front of her. 

“She was doing the job she loved,” Lexa said, moving to pull out the other barstool next to Clarke. She sat down and the blonde could finally see the emotion creeping into the Major’s eyes. “but some gang-banger decided his drugs were more important than her life,” she said, clasping her hands together and taking a deep breath before she continued. “He shot her eight times: two to the head, four to the chest, and one to each hand. It was supposed to send a message to the rest of the force to back off.”

A single tear fell from the brunette’s green eyes, and Clarke wrapped her hands around Lexa’s, doing her best to comfort the other woman. She felt sick, knowing all too well what it felt like to lose a loved one. 

“I’ve never loved someone the way I loved her,” Lexa said, pulling Clarke from her thoughts. “I struggled with her death for a long time until I understood the only way I could move on was to realize love is weakness.” 

The brunette looked over at Clarke, who was fighting back tears of her own. The blonde continued to hold Lexa’s hands in her own, gently rubbing her thumbs against the other woman’s fingers. They stayed like that for minutes, both trying to figure out what to say or what to do. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but more of a heavy one instead. 

“Love doesn’t have to be weakness, Lexa,” Clarke finally said, looking down at the entangled hands. “It’s part of who we are; to love and be loved.” The brunette looked up to meet the blue eyes looking back at her. Her gaze shifted to Clarke’s lips, and before the blonde knew it, Lexa had taken her hands from Clarke’s and placed them on both sides of the blonde’s jaw. The brunette gently leaned in and captured the other woman’s lips, and both women felt the weight of the world escape their tired bodies.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Life's gotten kinda crazy, y'know? Anyways, enjoy and as always, please feel free to comment!

Clarke reached up with her left hand and grabbed Lexa’s elbow tenderly, reciprocating the kiss. It was refreshing to feel something other than loss, and the blonde welcomed the feeling of promise. Sure, she had only known the brunette for a short amount of time, but the connection she felt was undeniable and something she didn’t want to run from. Not only was she captivated by Lexa’s beauty and stunning green eyes, but she was also captivated by her heart and calm demeanor. 

The pair was interrupted by a buzzing sound, indicating someone’s phone was ringing. Their lips parted and they brought their foreheads together before Clarke turned to grab her phone, groaning at who was listed on the caller I.D. She set her phone back down and returned her attention to the woman sitting in front of her. 

“You’re not going to answer that?” Lexa asked, her eyebrow arched and her eyes set on the blues in front of her. 

“My mother knows how to ruin just about anything, and I would really appreciate her not ruining this moment,” the blonde replied with a smile before she gently grabbed the brunette’s face, kissing her with a little more force than before. Lexa hummed in approval and placed her hands on the blonde’s thighs, bracing herself as she leaned into the kiss. 

A few moments had passed before Clarke’s phone started buzzing again. The blonde groaned even louder and saw her mother’s name on the phone once again. 

“Is she always this persistent?” Lexa joked as the blonde reached for her phone. Clarke made an annoyed face before swiping her phone to answer the call. 

“Mother, what is going on?” Clarke asked. Lexa watched the blonde’s expression turn from annoyed to confused in a matter of moments, and she squeezed Clarke’s thigh, grabbing the other woman’s attention. The brunette arched her eyebrow, silently asking if the blonde was okay, and all Clarke could do was stare and listen. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The blonde slowly placed the phone back on the counter and took a deep breath, fighting the tears that had found their way to her blue eyes. 

“Clarke, is everything okay?” Lexa asked, squeezing the blonde’s leg again to capture her attention. 

“I...my...my mom’s friend, Marcus, he…” Clarke paused as a single tear fell down her cheek and she took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “My mom’s friend Marcus, who has been like a father to me since mine died, was shot this morning and he’s in critical condition.” Another tear dropped down the blonde’s cheek, and she internally chastised herself for showing so much emotion in front of the other woman. “I’m sorry but I have to get back to Baltimore,” Clarke said, getting up from the stool and heading towards the stairs that led to the loft to retrieve her things. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Lexa asked with genuine worry in her voice. The brunette briefly shut her eyes, remembering the phone call she had received when Costia had been shot. She felt a pang in her stomach as the memories and emotions flooded her system. 

“Can you take me to the train station? I’m really sorry about this,” Clarke said as she scurried down the stairs and paused in front of Lexa to put her boots on. 

“Clarke, I’m not just going to drop you at the train station. Just tell me which hospital and I’ll take you there,” the brunette replied before she got up to retrieve her own boots by the front door. 

“Lexa, you really don’t have to do that,” Clarke replied, her eyebrows furrowed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

“I know I don’t have to, Clarke, but I want to.”The brunette took a few steps towards the other woman and grabbed her shoulders to give them a tender squeeze. “Let’s head out before the traffic gets too crazy, okay?” The blonde smiled softly and looked at the helmet Lexa was holding out in front of her. Clarke raised her eyebrow questioningly, and the brunette smirked in response. “I know, motorcycles aren’t safe, but life’s short, you know?”

“As long as you get us there in one piece, I don’t care,” the blonde replied.

The pair walked out of the apartment and down to the parking lot, where Lexa’s matte black Triumph motorcycle was parked. Clarke could have sworn Lexa’s level of attractiveness skyrocketed at the very sight of the brunette on the motorcycle. 

“Are you going to get on or just stare?” Lexa said sarcastically, a grin plastered on her face. Clarke playfully rolled her eyes, and was thankful for the light humor to distract her from the reality of their trip. 

\---------------------------------

As Lexa backed the powerful motorcycle into a spot in the hospital parking lot, Clarke endlessly tried to keep her emotions in check. Her thoughts had been distracted by the hum of the motorcycle and the feeling of wrapping her arms around Lexa’s waist during the short trip to Baltimore. Now, however, reality was coming back into focus, and the blonde had to remember to breath. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Lexa,” the blonde said, her voice trembling as she handed the helmet to the other woman. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” the brunette asked, catching Clarke off guard. The blonde hesitated, briefly looking towards the hospital before turning her attention back to the green eyes affixed on her. 

“No, no you don’t have to do that,” she said, blinking to keep her emotions in check. “You’ve already gone out of your way. Literally,” Clarke said with a tiny laugh that caused Lexa to smile in return. 

“Well, just call me if you need anything, okay?” the brunette replied, reaching out to grab Clarke’s hand. The blonde could have sworn her heart skipped a beat as Lexa squeezed her hand, and she briefly thought about asking the other woman to stay with her, but she knew it was too much to ask. Instead, she squeezed the hand in return, and started to make her way towards the entrance, taking deep breaths as she walked. 

As she walked through the entrance, past the front desk and towards the elevator leading to the Intensive Care Unit, Clarke reminded herself that death was a part of life. She mentally prepared herself for the worst, seeing someone you love and care about hanging onto life by a thread was something she had experienced before. She let the educated and medically trained part of her brain take over, going through what medications and what measures should be taken when someone is shot. She reminded herself of the years of training she had gone through and how she was taught to keep her emotions in check and focus on the medicine. There was no time to dwell on emotions. She needed to be strong for Kane. 

The elevator doors opened and Clarke stepped into the ICU, which was practically silent besides the beeps and chirps of ventilators, monitors, and other miscellaneous devices keeping the patients alive. A younger nurse directed her towards Kane’s room, and as soon as she saw the lifeless man laying in bed, all of her mental preparation went out the window and tears fell down her cheeks. 

The blonde stood there for what seemed like an eternity, watching the man’s chest rise and fall with the help of the ventilator pumping oxygen into his otherwise lifeless body. Her thoughts were consumed with memories of the man and how he had stepped up after her father’s death; how he supported her military career when her mother refused; how his simple crooked smile could light up the darkest room; how he looked homeless half of the time with his five o’clock shadow, old boots and ripped jeans; how he simply loved Clarke for Clarke, nothing more, nothing less. 

Clarke was on the verge on a full-fledged anxiety attack when she felt a hand on her lower back. She turned to see those captivating green eyes looking back at her, filled with an understanding the blonde hadn’t seen before. Clarke turned and buried her head in Lexa’s chest, crying harder than she had in a long time. The brunette simply wrapped her arms around the blonde, and in that moment, they were both safe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am for not updating for the last few months. I got a promotion (kind of) at work and it's been absolutely insane. At any rate, I hope you enjoy and I'll be trying to update this much more frequently!

“Remember to breathe, Clarke,” Lexa said softly into the blonde’s ear while she continued the circling motion of her hand on the other woman’s back in an attempt to calm the blonde down. 

“Clarke?” Both women looked up to see the elder Griffin, looking utterly confused at the sight before her. “Who is this?” Abby asked, obviously exhausted with two paper coffee cups in her hands. 

“Mom, this is Major Lexa Heda. Major, this is my mother, Abby Griffin,” the blonde said as she wiped her eyes. Her mother looked over the brunette woman with hesitation before shaking the hand that was extended in front of her. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am,” Lexa said, her eyes showing compassion towards the other woman. 

“And how do you know Clarke?” Abby said quickly, beginning to test the woman in front of her. 

“Your daughter rescued my unit in Afghanistan, ma’am,” she said matter-of-fact before looking in Clarke’s direction. “She saved countless lives that day. I owe my own life to her.” Lexa looked back at Abby, and noticed the hesitant expression on her face. The older woman only nodded and scanned Lexa before turning her attention back to the blonde. 

“Clarke, I need to speak with you, please,” she said before entering Kane’s room and shutting the door behind her daughter. 

“What the hell is going on? Why is this woman here with you?” she spat. Clark was taken aback and looked out of the window towards the brunette before responding. 

“I needed a ride to get back here as soon as possible,” Clarke started as she felt the emotions bubbling in her stomach. 

“So she just gave you a ride? What else, Clarke? The way she was comforting you sure makes it seem like it was more than ‘just a ride’.”

“Just say what you mean, mom. Ask what’s really on your mind,” The blonde responded quickly. Abby looked at her daughter, then out the window at Lexa before taking a deep breath in hopes of calming herself down. 

“I don’t see or hear from you in days, and you show up with some strange woman? Clarke, this isn’t like you. You aren’t the type of person who disappears and does things like this,” the older woman said with a mix or worry and anger lingering behind her eyes. 

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes and looking out at the woman in the hallway. “I’ve been staying with Raven because I can’t take this constant arguing anymore. Every time we’re around each other, we fight and bicker and it’s exhausting, mom.” Clarke looked at her mother, whose lips were pursed tightly together with her gaze fixed on her daughter. “Nothing I say or do seems to make you happy, so I needed space. I needed to recharge and visiting Lexa and her unit at Walter Reed has helped me remember that what I’m doing, the job that I love so much, is something to be proud of.” 

Clarke could feel the tears welling behind her eyes, but refused to let them reach the surface. Of course she wasn’t going to mention the kiss between her and Lexa just hours ago, or the feeling she got whenever Lexa looked her way. Those bits of information could wait. 

“Excuse me, but Mr. Kane is scheduled for an MRI. There’s a waiting room down the hall if you would like to wait until he comes back,” a nurse said, entering the room tentatively. Abby nodded her head, and the Griffin women exited the room quickly and silently to find the hallway empty and Lexa nowhere to be found. 

The blonde turned her head quickly, looking down the hallway for any sign of the brunette woman, but to no avail. Clarke walked quickly down the hallway in the direction of the elevators, and found herself almost running towards the parking lot to where the pair had parked the motorcycle once she was on the first floor.

“Lexa!” Clarke yelled once she spotted the brunette, who was just about to her motorcycle with her helmet in tow. The brunette woman turned her head, an expressionless face looking back towards the blonde. “Listen, I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s just impossible and -”

“Clarke,” the brunette said, cutting the other woman off and placing a reassuring hand on the blonde’s arm. “I don’t need an explanation. I just...don’t want to get in the middle, especially during an emotional time like this.” Clarke looked at the other woman questioningly, but before she could say anything, Lexa smiled and gave the blonde’s arm a light squeeze. “I need to be getting back to Walter Reed, anyways. I’ll see you around, Clarke.” The brunette put on her motorcycle helmet, started the ignition, and before Clarke could process what had happened, Lexa was speeding off out of the parking lot and out of sight.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of Clexa, but developments for the Griffins. Hope you enjoy! As always, please feel free to leave comments or suggestions!

“So...she just...left?” Octavia questioned over the phone. Clarke took a deep breath and rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

“Yeah, O. My mom freaked out, Lexa heard, and now she’s gone.” There was a pause before the woman on the other end said anything.

“Shit, Clarke. I thought you were calling to tell me you had the best sex of your life last night.”

“Octavia-”

“I’m kidding. Well, kind of,” the other woman said with a hint of laughter. “But in all seriousness, what are you going to do? Go after her?” Clarke thought for a minute. She hadn’t really processed the last couple of hours, let alone what she was going to do about the latest events.

“I don’t even know. I mean, Kane is here and in pretty bad shape, but then there’s my mother and the very sight of her makes my blood pressure skyrocket,” the blonde said as she paced in front of the hospital.

“Clarke, for fuck’s sake, stop thinking about everyone else for like, 2 seconds and think about what you want to do. Clearly, you like this girl. She clearly likes you. Start with that.” Clarke took a deep breath and was about to say something before Octavia interrupted her. “Oh, by the way are you going to that meeting in D.C. tomorrow?”

“Fuck. I forgot about that,” Clarke groaned. While the blonde loved the Air Force, she hated pushing papers and attending meetings for hours on end. “Yeah, I have to be there. Might look bad if the CRO doesn’t even show up.”

“Got that right, blondie. Text me when you get here tomorrow and we’ll suffer together. You bring the shooters, I’ll bring the fun.” Clarke grinned and rolled her eyes.

“Shut up, O. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The pair hung up and Clarke took a deep breath before heading back inside the hospital.

\---------------------------------------------

When Clarke returned to the small waiting area by Kane’s room, she found her mother sitting in an oversized chair, looking dejected. The older woman looked like she had aged a few years in the last few days, and while Clarke was mad at her, she couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. She quietly sat down in the chair next to her mother’s and took the woman’s hands into her own, forcing Abby’s eyes to meet her daughters.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Abby said, stunning her daughter. The blonde looked at her mother in complete disbelief. It had been years since Clarke had heard her mother utter those three words. “I just...so much changed after your dad died. Everything I pictured my life to be like just...changed.”

Clarke nodded thoughtfully, choosing her words carefully before speaking to the emotional woman in front of her.

“A lot _did_ change, mom,” Clarke said quietly, “but not all of it was negative. Yes, dad died but I found a line of work that I love and have worked so hard at.” The blonde saw a tear roll down her mother’s cheek, and her heart nearly crumbled at the sight. She hadn’t seen her mother cry since her father’s funeral years ago.

“I know you love it Clarke,” her mother started, sniffling as she paused to wipe her eyes, “and I hope you know that I am proud of you for saving so many people but,” the older woman paused again and closed her eyes before continuing. “I don’t think I could keep living if something happened to you.”

Abby’s words came out as a whisper before more tears starting falling down her cheeks. Clarke was speechless as she watched her mother try to compose herself, small sobs escaping the fragile woman. All the blonde could do was wrap her mother in her arms, hugging her for the first time in a long time. Clarke felt tears of her own threatening to fall down her cheeks, but she kept them at bay as she rubbed her mother’s back in comfort.

“I never made the decision to join the Air Force in hopes of hurting you or making you worry about me. I just...it _felt_ right. Dad was doing such great things over there and I wanted to keep his legacy alive. I...I want to make him proud,” Clarke choked out, letting her tears finally fall.

“Oh, Clarke,” Abby said, grabbing her daughter’s hands before giving them a squeeze. “He would be _so_ proud of you.”

Clarke fidgeted with her father’s watch after Abby had let go of her hands, and the familiar pang of sadness filled her tired body. She looked at her mother and gave her a sad smile before taking a deep breath to regain her composure.

“I know my life now isn’t what you imagined it would be for me. I’m not a surgeon, I don’t have a boyfriend that I want to marry, and my job carries the possibility of dying,” the blonde said thoughtfully. “I also know that it’s hard for you, not only because so much changed, but because you’re used to being in control of things.” Abby looked up at her daughter with a puzzled look on her face and Clarke continued. “You fix people, mom. You patch them up, decide what medications will keep them alive, decide what tests to run, and you’re really good at it. But this life I’ve made for myself...you’re not in control anymore. It’s not what you wanted or what you envisioned, so it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Clarke-”

“Please, mom. I need to get this off my chest,” the blonde said confidently. Abby nodded slightly, encouraging her daughter to continue. “I can’t live without you either. You are everything to me, mom, and the last few years have been so difficult because I’ve felt so distant from you.” The blonde paused to take a deep breath before she continued. “All I want is to make you and dad proud.”

Her mother nodded and licked her lips nervously, steadying her breath before she spoke.

“I just...I just worry about you, Clarke. I’m proud of you, _so_ _proud_ of you, but I worry about you not coming home.”

“You have to trust me,” Clarke said quickly. The older woman looked at her daughter and a small smile appeared on her lips as she nodded her head.

“You’re right. I will try to trust you from now on,” she said, taking her daughters hands into her own. “Be patient with me though. It’s pretty hard to teach an old dog new tricks,” she joked, causing a big smile to appear on her daughter’s lips as she nodded her head.

After a few minutes of silence, Abby cleared her throat and readjusted her position in the chair.

“I’m sorry if I scared Major Heda,” she said, keeping eye contact with her daughter. “I’m guessing she left after she heard our conversation?” Clarke smiled and took a deep breath before she answered.

“Kind of. She’s a little hard to read, to be honest. One minute she’s really warm and friendly and the next minute she’s cold and emotionless. So, who knows. She still has some men from her unit at Walter Reed so I’m guessing that’s where she is.” Abby smiled at her daughter, a genuine smile that puzzled the blonde.

“She sure seems to...appreciate you,” Abby said, choosing her words carefully. Clarke looked over at her mother’s smug grin and laughed.

“She better,” the blonde said with a smile. “I did save her life, after all.”

The two Griffin women sat there for a long while, talking about how Clarke saved the SF unit and the cases her mother had worked on while her daughter was away at war. The tension between them had seemingly evaporated, and Clarke wasn’t sure if it was temporarily gone, but she was going to appreciate the newfound relationship with her mother for as long as she could.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but I hope it does the trick for you! As always, please feel free to leave comments/suggestions for me :)

Clarke Griffin was distracted.

Which was definitely out of the ordinary for the usually focused and detail-oriented blonde. She sat in meetings all day in D.C. while her mind wandered elsewhere. She convinced herself over and over that she was distracted by Kane’s hospitalization and her breakthrough conversation with her mother the day before.

Her distraction definitely wasn’t because of a certain brunette who was probably in the same city as Clarke.

No, she was distracted by the updates her mother was sending her about Kane’s condition. How he was stable but still in a medically induced coma. How his MRIs and lab work all fell within “normal” limits. How his condition wasn’t worsening, but wasn’t quite improving.

These texts from the older Griffin made Clarke think about Kane, which in turn made her think of her mother, which in turn made the blonde think about Lexa. How those green eyes captivated the blonde. How Clarke had to stop herself from looking at Lexa’s lips every time the other woman talked. How Clarke felt a buzz running through her veins whenever Lexa happened to touch her, inadvertently or on purpose. How everytime Lexa said Clarke’s name, the blonde felt butterflies in her stomach. How-

“Captain Griffin?” The blonde was shaken from her thoughts by the voice of her commanding officer, who was staring at her with a somewhat annoyed expression.

“Yes, sir,” Clarke croaked, her throat dry and she tried to re-focus her attention.

“Captain Griffin, did you hear _anything_ I just said?” Clarke stared at him blankly, knowing full-well that lying would get her nowhere.

“No, sir. I’m sorry, but I did not.” The man huffed and titled his head to the side, motioning for Clarke to follow him so he could talk to her privately.

“What the _hell_ is going on, Griffin? You’re here, but you’re not. Care to explain?”

“Sir, with all do respect, I am distracted today,” she responded honestly.

“No shit,” he retorted quickly, crossing his arms across his chest. “What’s going on?”

“Sir, a dear friend of the family is in critical condition up at John’s Hopkins. My mother has been updating me on his condition all day and it’s been at the forefront of my mind, sir.” She wasn’t really lying to her CO. Her mother had been texting her about Kane. Clarke just left out the part about a certain Major Heda that was at the very forefront of her mind.

“I’m sorry to hear about your friend, Captain,” he replied with a genuine look in his eyes. “But, this briefing is important shit. You’re leaving again in just over three and a half months to the most dangerous part of the world. Shit’s been hot over there and things are changing rapidly. I _need_ you focused, Griffin. You’re one of my best CROs, you hear me?” Clarke nodded with a sly grin.

“I’m one of the best, huh?” she joked, earning an eye roll from her CO.

“Get your ass back to the briefing, Griffin,” he said with a smile on his face.

 

\----------------------------

 

“Okay, sorry-not-sorry that you and Major Green Eyes didn’t bang, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you about the absolutely mind-blowing sex I had with Lincoln!” Octavia argued, earning a groan from the blonde.

“I swear to god, Octavia, I just spent my _entire_ day in briefings, listening to this and that about Afghanistan and now I have to hear about your _fucking_ sex life?!”

“'Fucking' being the operative word, Griff.” Clarke punched the smaller brunette in the shoulder as Octavia continued to laugh so hard that she could hardly breathe. The blonde took a sip from her drink, trying not to think about the brunette Octavia had mentioned.

“If I’m going to actually hear about your sex life, I need some fresh air first,” Clarke said, drinking what was left of her whiskey-sour before heading to a side door of the bar. Octavia gave her a wink as she made her way to the bar for more drinks, and Clarke pushed open the side door, reveling in the way the chilled air felt against her cheeks.

The door opened to a somewhat busy street in D.C., lined with bars, restaurants and cafes that were occupied with plenty of young professionals. Clarke wondered what it was like to be one of those “young professionals”, where “working” meant a nine to five job in a cubicle lined office, answering phones and emails instead of a helicopter with bleeding civilians. Where you could leave work at 5:00 and go join your friends for happy hour, complaining about how much your boss sucked and how the person in the cubicle next to you microwaved day-old fish that made the entire office smell instead of washing the blood from your uniform after a particularly gruesome shift. Where a “bad day” meant you accidentally left a typo in an email to your boss or you spilt coffee on your nice white blouse instead of watching your fellow PJ take bullets from the Taliban.

Clarke shook those thoughts from her head and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she loves the job and is making her dad proud.

“Do you always stand out on the street at night?” A familiar voice asked, shaking the blonde from her thoughts. Clarke looked to her left, and found those captivating green eyes looking back at her.

“Do you always creep up on girls at night?” Clarke responded playfully. Lexa smiled in return, and _god_ , the blonde thought, _I_ _could_ _get_ _used_ _to_ _that_ _smile_.

“Creeping, huh? Seems a bit harsh,” she said, moving closer to the blonde. “Seriously, what are you doing out here?”

“Octavia’s inside. She was about to tell me _entirely_ too much about her sex life, so I decided to get some air before I have to withstand hearing about it.” Lexa laughed in return, like really laughed and it caught Clarke off-guard. “What’s so funny?”

“That would explain why Lincoln insisted on meeting me at this particular bar tonight,” the brunette responded, rolling her eyes in the process. Clarke started laughing too and shook her head.

“It’s kind of disgusting how obsessed Octavia is with him after like, one night,” Clarke responded.

“He’s obsessed too,” Lexa snickered. “He didn’t quite offer to inform me of his sex life like Octavia did, but he’s been staring at his phone since I got back yesterday and smiling like an idiot.” Both girls smiled and settled into a comfortable silence as they took one another in.

“Well,” Clarke said, breaking the silence, “we could always, you know, let them hang out at the bar together while we go somewhere else?” The blonde’s heart was racing and she could feel the blush warming her neck while she tried to remain confident in front of the other woman. “That way I wouldn’t have to hear about the ‘ _mind-blowing sex_ ’ between those two.”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow, and Clarke thought she might melt on the spot.

“Clarke Griffin, are you asking me on a date?” The brunette asked softly, moving closer to the blonde so she was right in front of where Clarke was leaning on the brick exterior of the bar.

Yearning for that buzz to fill her veins, Clarke slowly pushed off the wall and laced her fingers with Lexa’s as she internally applauded herself for the smooth move.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY!!!!!!!
> 
> Life has gotten the best of my time and attention lately, and this story totally took a backseat. I am VERY sorry!! I hope this short little chapter restores your faith in the story :)
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts! More updates to come, I promise!

Lexa was pretty sure her hands were on fire. At least that’s what it felt like when Clarke laced her soft hands with the brunette’s. The air was chilly, but _goddamn_ if Lexa didn’t feel the burn spread from her hands throughout her entire body. 

“What do you suggest we do on this date, Clarke?” Lexa asked playfully, drawing out the hard “k” sound in the other woman’s name, which she had come to realize made the blonde’s breath hitch in her throat.

“ _Well_ , Lexa, I figured I could buy you a drink after everything you did for me yesterday,” the blonde said with a smile tugging at her lips.

“A drink would be nice,” Lexa said quietly, making Clarke quirk her eyebrow.

“Just ‘nice’?” The blonde asked teasingly. Lexa had a smile of her own tugging at her lips and she shrugged before speaking.

“It’s a good start.”

Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, but Lexa still caught sight of the way the blonde’s pupils dilated in the time the two had intertwined their hands.

The blonde began to head in a direction Lexa had already come from, and tugged the brunette’s hand to follow her. Once she caught up to the blonde, neither of the women were quick to release their hands, choosing to continue holding hands as they made their way down the street before entering a more upscale bar than the previous.

The pair ordered drinks before finding a table near the corner of the bar area that seemed to perfectly illuminate Clarke’s blue eyes and sun-kissed skin. Or at least that’s what Lexa thought.

“So, Clarke,” the brunette began after she took her first sip of the whiskey on the rocks the blonde had gotten her. “Do you always take people you’ve saved out on dates?” She asked playfully, noting the slight blush that crept onto the blonde’s cheeks.

“Just really beautiful Special Forces Majors,” Clarke replied quickly, again internally applauding herself for flirting so easily after being out of the game for so long. The woman across from her rolled her eyes playfully, attempting to mask the blush that had also risen to her tan cheeks. “In all honesty, it’s been...quite awhile since I’ve been on a date, let alone with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Lexa asked with confusion written all over her face.

“You know, intelligent, career-oriented, beautiful, badass,” Clarke said with a laugh and Lexa eased back in her seat.

“I should say the same,” the brunette replied cooly, causing the blonde to tilt her head.

“Really? A Major in the Special Forces and you don’t have chicks knocking down your door left and right?” The blonde joked as she saw a genuine smile on Lexa’s face. That smile was quickly becoming Clarke’s favorite feature on the other woman.

“I never said there weren’t chicks knocking down my door,” she replied as she leaned forward to bring her elbows on the table before quirking her eyebrow. “But none of them saved my life. None of them are quite like you, Clarke. What you did that day...what you risked to save my men is beyond remarkable and after getting to know you over the last few days, I know it’s just the person you are.”

Clarke was speechless. Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Lexa. The blonde reached across the table and took the other woman’s hand, rubbing circles with her thumb.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Clarke finally asked, noticing the way the brunette’s eyes sparkled at the question.

“More than anything.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Neither women said a word as they hustled down the busy street to a hotel entering hand-in-hand with grins plastered on both faces. Lexa walked up to the desk and asked about rooms while Clarke quickly checked her phone, finding a number of texts from Octavia about her whereabouts. She quickly dialed the other woman’s number and squeezed Lexa’s hand to get her attention before walking a few steps from the desk. 

“Clarke Griffin, you better have the best _fucking_ excuse for ditching me tonight,” Octavia seethed through the phone. 

“O, I’m really sorry,” the blonde said, looking over her shoulder to find the brunette handing over her credit card. “I ran into Lexa outside of the bar-”

“Yes, Lincoln told me. What, are you two unable to hang out with your best fucking friends?!” 

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Clarke said cooly, rolling her eyes at the other woman’s dramatics. 

“Okay, so come join us then! We’re still here with some of Lincoln’s buddies,” she said, waiting for a reply from the blonde. Clarke looked over her shoulder again and saw Lexa signing the receipt, knowing her phone conversation had to end soon.

“I can’t,” the blonde said into the phone quietly. “I-I’m at a hotel…” The blonde could hear the gasp on the end and rolled her eyes. 

“Clarke...are you _serious_?!” Octavia bellowed. “Jesus Christ, Griffin! I better hear all of the details when your little rendezvous is over-”

“Yeah, O, I got it. I need to go but be safe tonight, okay? I love you,” the blonde said before turning to meet green eyes looking back at hers. 

“Everything okay, Clarke?” the brunette said, raising her eyebrows questioningly as she leant against a chair in the open hotel lobby. 

“Yes, sorry it was Octavia,” the blonde replied before moving in the other woman’s direction. “I had to explain why I ditched her,” Clarke finished as she stood in front of Lexa. 

“And?” the brunette replied sarcastically with a grin on her face, taking Clarke’s hand in her own.  

“I told her I was at a hotel with you and that was pretty much the end of the conversation,” the blonde explained with a smile. Lexa nodded coolly in return, and took a few steps towards the elevator with Clarke’s hand in her own. The blonde followed without hesitation, entering into the elevator and up to the hotel room with Lexa as she felt her entire body tingle at the contact with the other woman and the anticipation of the night ahead. 


End file.
